Friday, January 9, 2009

I'd Rather Talk About Something Else

I had ideas today to blog about foot pain, great Austin weather to run in, the closing of "The Cave" (as it was referred to as by my co-workers), the new office digs (the largest cube farm I've ever seen in my life) or the last hacky sack circle within The Cave prior to leaving the building for the last time, but the words didn't flow as expected. I researched and totally had the Punxsutawney Phil metaphor for cube farms nailed and even had the Whac-A-Mole metaphor standing off stage right in the shadows in case the former metaphor didn't materialize. (See Office Space, the movie).

But during the hacky sack circle, during the installation of the servers in the new cube farm, during the eating of fabo-veggie burritos at Freebird's or the Mexican cervezas at Saucer, a certain sadness was experienced by the cavemen and the solitary cave woman. It was not spoken of nor a tear to be had. Four-plus years in a sub-standard office space had come to an end but with great memories of making the most of it. So it was to be that at 12:10 p.m. the non-discrept black and white clock on the wall was withdrawn, placed on the floor and crushed under the feet of six individuals forever freezing in time 12:10 p.m. in the cave. That's the last thing done in the cave before the door was closed. It had the feeling of sealing the opening of the Egyptian pyramid's treasures with dynamite but without the dynamite. And it wasn't Egyptian and there were certainly no treasures and there was nothing secret about it although you had to know the five-digit code to enter which added to the mysterious feel but I digress.

The cave dwellers evolved into cube farmers today. So be it. Enough said.

One curious note though. As I was leaving, glancing to make sure the fridge was defrosting properly, carrying my last box containing a pencil, various sized paper clips and a post it note one of the managers entered the cave waving a familiar square piece of plastic. Lo and behold it was my Bob Dylan Modern Times CD. Synchronicity! Hallelujah! It just goes to show you that if you put the energy out there for something it'll come to you in time. I'd been searching for two weeks for it. Not exactly returned on Twitter time but I'll take it.

So, rather than spend time reminiscing on the old cave or bludgeoning myself on the new dress code including my favorites; no jeans or tennis shoes come Monday, I'd rather point you to the hilarious Bike Snob NYC post about his new-free ride.

Last bit. I also rejoiced today spying bike racks inside the covered garage. At one point officials said they were to be outdoors only. Like I'd leave Salsa Verde, Caliente or Road Saus tethered to a rack in the rain. That was almost a deal breaker for future commutes.

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