Parched yet not poached

A confused post that goes nowhere and everywhere

We’ve been set up with an internet connection at the apartment, this morning, and it would seem as though we’re both salivating at the prospect of finalizing things with the wireless router. Being an addict isn’t easy. Being a very private, reserved addict is probably even worse. The questions about connectivity, questions about the future of the connection and usefulness of the wireless, airport card since it’s caused problems in the past. Stammered yet sloth pacing around the front room, hands pocketed and deposits of sleep remain at eye corners.

It’s sort of weird; actually, that I can’t just write while I’m here. Spend the time to conceptualize and birth a short post about what I’m doing as once I begin the thought it’s quickly knocked back by devotion to my work. It’s a new feeling. The sleeplessness that has gripped me tight isn’t, but the want to spend as much time sitting here, at my desk, doing whatever they need me to do is new. Coming in on a Saturday to catch up or take a leap ahead. Taking time for a walk, web surfing or posting entries used to be par for the course, yet, now, I’m glued down by my own willingness to get as much done as possible. Apparently, people have noticed that I run in every morning, oddly looking like I really like doing my job; because I do.

The last tangent I’ll post here, a jerky posting that flows like a staccatoed gesture, I’m leaving for Minnesota at one this afternoon. I’ll be sleeping a lot, catching up on sleep, reading, writing, and the kind of face-pressed-against-the-glass sleep that you can only arrive at while traveling in the backseat of your family’s car on a long drive.