Fin in Sight from the top of the Arc (not Ark)

What a waste this is. This blog thing isn't working out. Since it's not July anymore, I'm gonna wind this one down soon and come up with something more conceptual to take advantage of my provocative nature, but perhaps in a more positive tone.

In other words, I think (know) I'm being a dickhead (yet) again.

So, what's new with you?

I'm thinking along the line of how quantity and quality are always at odds. Like how one can be more than two.

BTW, in an unrelated story, I just picked up the book The I Chong by Tommy Chong.

Yes, that Chong. The one who used to be with Cheech.

I justified the purchase because it was a NYT bestseller and its red cover caught my eye in the Penn Station bookstore. The said store is one of my favorite haunts because it has a lot of books, but a limited selection. It really forces me to decide whether to buy a book or just get a pack of gum. Book usually wins. That, and they know (trust) me there, which is almost the commuter's equivalent of knowing the password to an after hours joint downtown. Heh, heh. I said joint.

This week was quite interesting. I felt like I got on a plane and left all my luggage at the gate. A mix of lightness and melancholy. I miss terribly what is below me; I look forward to what is above. I’m running on empty again, and I think it’s showing.

Had my summer review this week. Scored off the charts (which, of course, dooms me.) Never had a better, more positive and encouraging assessment of my day job ever.

I repeat, Ever.

That’s the word of our life.

I can only go down from here. And I'm moving at terminal velocity, so I'm in accordance with Newton's Laws. And I’m so intensely tired. And next week will be even more demanding than was this week. And I have that feeling in my stomach again that is the pit of doom. Shit like this always happens during Shark Week on the Discovery Channel.

Is there anybody out there?