Life in the Slow Lane

[beetiger]

One hour, twenty minutes seems to be the commute time, more or less. I puttered around at a Duchess, which seems to be some sort of fake McDonald's or something, to pass the extra time before I was supposed to arrive.

My car passed the 100,000 mile mark on the way there this morning. It seems silly to call it "rolling it over" these days, since the display handles six digits fine.

Given eight hours work, three hours commute, and eight hours sleep, that's only five hours per weekday to write, cook, and otherwise live my life. Is this acceptable? I'm not sure.

I'm going to try to keep up with journaling. With any luck, there'll be as much composed thoughtfulness and fatigued rambles like this.

Comments

[queenofstripes.livejournal.com]

It's a pity there isn't mass transit available there. Being able to scribble in a notebook while I commute has made my life as a drone (er, no racial slur intended O:) ) in Boston soooo much better than it was in Seattle. Just promise yourself that you'll use the extra money to buy yourself a little freedom when this assignment is up.

Speaking of little freedoms, there's still that matter of which weekend would be good for you... :) In the meantime, consider books on tape. :)