Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Self-satisfaction = eventual doom, probably.

I have found myself a lovely daily rhythm, and it is representative of the charmed life I am currently leading that I ride my bike DOWN HILL BOTH WAYS to work.

Every morning I wake up ten minutes before I have to leave the house. I brush, wash, dress, and give a quick big spoon to my sleeping boyfriend before I ride my bike to my shuttle stop. It is sunny every day; it is between 60 and 70 degrees every day. I wear jeans almost every day.

I get on my limo bus, settle into the leather seat, and listen to an NPR podcast. Twice a week I take an earlier bus so I can go to the gym before work; on those days I sleep on the ride. An hour later I disembark, eat my delicious free breakfast, and do my really cool job in a mediocre but acceptable manner.

I work at one of the nerdiest places imaginable. Most people are your run of the mill nerds, but not all, my friends, not all. There's a guy who wears all purple, with the exception of his socks and shoes. He wears one purple Converse, with a yellow sock; on the other foot he wears a yellow Converse, with a purple sock. Rumor has it that he alternates. This place is like college - whiteboards, posters, beanbag chairs, email lists over which people get all het up. Tons of free food, all the time. It's like Wellesley, but with dudes, and lucrative pay.

Come 5ish, it's back on the shuttle to do some work (yay shuttle wi-fi), listen to music, etc. I get dropped off at a (different, panoramic) spot 4 blocks from my house, admire the famous (Full House opening credits) view, then ride downhill home. There I am met by my boyfriend, who until yesterday was gloriously unemployed and was the best housekeeper you've ever seen; once he even met me at the door with a gin & tonic.

We get organic vegetables from local farms delivered to our house, so we cook dinner at home most nights. Then we either go to a show (Mike is an editor for, go out for drinks, or stay in and watch The West Wing and talk about how we wish Jed Bartlet was our president. Our obese cat is the littlest spoon.

On weekends we go for bike rides, hike, walk around the city, or hang out in the park. We take trips to Tahoe, to Napa, or up the coast. Most weekend nights we drink excessive amounts of adult beverages, and I usually take photos to post on semi-public fora.

We are both uneasy that this is not going to last for too much longer, but in the meantime, I am going to gloat my ass off.

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