It’s like a ghost town

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This feels too weird. It is almost 10:30, and I am the only developer in. Sure, developers tend to get in late, but here late is about 9:30-ish. The guy who gets here at 7 in the morning is not even in yet. Too freaky. It is like a ghost town.

Over the last couple of days, on the way into work, I have seen a little old man that saddens me every time I see him. He is in a little motorized wheelchair and drives down the sidewalk alone. His legs and one arm are at really strange, uncomfortable-looking angles, and the other arm gingerly operates the wheelchair's control stick. Every time I see him, his head, with white tuft of hair, is hung low, chin to his chest. I realize this is probably just a physical thing with his head or neck, but it gives off such a shameful vibe. This morning, I saw him waiting at the bus stop. I guess that is why I have been seeing him every morning like clockwork on the way into work.

I finished copying the Cryptonomicon audiobook cassette tapes to MP3. I am still bitter and angry that it is an “unabridged excerpts” version.

Posted in: Dear Diary Work

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