Monday, September 17, 2007

Back in the day

I am dreading returning to work today. I have so much on my plate right now, and taking Friday off just set me back enough to make today a crazy mess. What's that you say? I could have worked over the weekend? Here is my theory: those who work on the weekends still don't seem to get caught up, and in fact, are always running behind. So what's the sense of giving up your free time, the time that you are working so hard in order to have?

Sometimes I think that by compartmentalizing my work vs. life, I give the impression that I am swamped to colleagues, but I might not have as much going on as those who give up their evenings and Sundays to toil in the office. But I get my job done (and more), so I still don't get the need to kill myself in order to take on more and more and more.

* * *

So the Sopranos won an Emmy - can we stop talking about it now? I know, I know, I said this after the last episode aired, but I was premature.

* * *

Way back in the early days of online communities, I was part of a discussion group fixated on the OJ criminal trial. It grew out of the Court TV message boards but soon took on a life of its own. We were there for each other through the trial, the verdict (which I, stuck in an office, only learned by participating in a chat room with others who had TVs), the civil trial, and then gradually evolved into a more varied political/social issues group. I gave it up a few years ago (although technically I am still part of the group and can access their messages when I'm bored) but for a long time I couldn't imagine cutting that cord. In cleaning out my files for moving, I found a thick pile of printouts from those emails and online chats (including the infamous "not guilty" verdict moments.) One of our members passed away, young and tragically. Two of our members met in real life and married - one of the first online unions; odd to think that now, when I imagine thousands marry through relationships developed on the internet each year. We agreed and disagreed, argued and applauded one another, on issues as varied as the war and movies, but on one thing we always agreed: OJ was guilty.

Now, waking to find that he has once again been arrested (for something far less serious than the slaughter of his ex-wife and an innocent bystander), I naturally am thinking of those online friends.

* * *

My heat has kicked on the past two mornings. Goodbye, summer. Welcome, autumn.


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