And finally it feels like October is supposed to feel. Colder, with the sadness of the changing season having passed through me already before last week’s heat streak. I uncovered an old notebook I got a long time ago. It is heavy, which on its own would not matter, but it adds considerable weight to my bag. It is a leathery thing. I don’t have it with me at the moment. But I want to reactivate my prestidigitational writing again. I do precious little of that. It feels like blood flowing, etching itself across the papyrus. Yeah, that’s preetentious, but there’s some truth to the sensations.
I started writing random phrases and stray thoughts yesterday, deciding that I needed a separate book for this. I was using the notebook into which I write work-related crap. Well, it’s not all crap. If I spot a payphone online I write down its location and sometimes I make it out there, depending how far and ambitious the journey would be. I write down other things as well, mostly never followed up on.
The boss and I randomly decided I should take Saturday off. I find I need the extra day more than I realized. I have cleanup work to do, in more ways than one.
The commute. The new commute. It’s like I found a secret passage. I have what feels like a personal elevator at Cortlandt Street, and another at Fulton. It does cost me a few minutes here or there but it’s fine. I am chronically under-late, or over-early. If only the commute was headed to a destination of more glory than what this is at present.
It’s interesting at times how we mingle, strangers, a festive stew of dvergant intentions and destinations. The elevator today deposited me at the underground entrance to The Oculus, that giant ivory ribcage with its oddball nooks and crannies… crooks and nannies. Do we really need 2 Duane Reade/Walgreen’s under one roof? Maybe we do. Maybe that is exactly what New York needs post-9/11.
But I don’t go through the Oculus. Not in the morning, at least. I will likely wander its sterile passageways more in the coming weeks on account of the colder weather and lack of summer sun. I spend my lunch break walking for about 40 minutes. For gits and shiggles I plugged into an app that tracks my steps and pays cash. I calculated that 10,000 steps, which is said to be a healthy target per day, earns me a whopping 5 cents. You have to validate your steps each day or else you lose the cash windfall. If you did this every single day for a year you’d clear a cool $18.25.
But the app is more than just steps, and I’m not concerned about the money or the fact that the app is probably following and tracking every step I take, monitoring my travels and using it as conversation fodder. There are games and surveys which, in the oppressively boring hours of my job, sometimes keep my mind active. I’ve cleared $45 in Amazon gift cards over the last couple of months. Big money.
