It is coming up on my one year date. One year since starting this job. For whatever reason it is considered a milestone at this place. TO me it’s just another drip in the bucket of time. I just talked to someone who has been here for about 2-1/2 years. She said she thought I had been here longer than her. That’s kinda weird. What does it mean? Perceptions. The Mandela Effect. This isn’t really that, I know, but in my mind I’ve been replaying all those Ed McMahon Publishers Clearing House commercials that never aired, thinking it a strange, snide, aggressive memory to culturally fabricate. What does it say about our estimation of Ed McMahon, the unabashed coattail chaser of TVdom. I feel something pleading, and desperate in these cultural fibs. But also something judgmental. 

As for the one year thing I will say that this has been different. A year of strict structure after 20 years of unmoored directionlessness has changed my fundamental relationship with time. I still feel it clamping up under me, resisting progress while ticking along at its own pace. But lately I’ve made peace with the fact that 5:00 will get here when 5:00 gets here. 

I remember saying that “the years pass like strangers.” During Covid they did not pass at all. Was it one big year, or one yearless blob of entropy?

It is suddenly very noisy in here. I look forward to this morning quiet time but it’s become a fustercluck. There is quieter space upstairs but stairs…

Mystery tune I found via Music On Hold at a comopany I called last month where no one ever answered. All I heard was this:

https://youtu.be/Abl6bL2amWs