thwarted

Do you know what a dongle is? Wikipedia quotes "a dongle is a small hardware device that connects to a computer to validate some piece of software". In my case, the dongle is a thumb drive that I am required to use on my laptop to run SolidWorks 2006, our chosen 3D CAD software. However, seeing as it's stupid-early and I came all the way down to this damn coffee shop to do some CAD work and left my dongle at home... well, I define dongle as "an unnecessary piece of shit".

Hostility? Yessir. I could be sleeping still. OK, probably not sleeping, but at least sitting on my own futon watching the morning news or pouring caffeine down Lauren's throat in an attempt to roust her this early. Asi es la vida, and instead of heading into the lab I'm going to kill an hour and a half here at the caffeine-dealer's crack-house. Holly and I are planning to meet at this very location at 7:15am; I need the visit and am anxious to hear of her trip to Norway.

There are some really amazing pictures on the walls around me, mostly of stalagmites (n' tites) from Horsethief Cave in Wyoming. The photos and their titles remind me of Cormac McCarthy's novel "Child of God". I won't go into detail, as the book is quite disturbing, but it is a worthwhile read and if you have 3 days to kill you should read it (to kill not being an intended pun, which you'll understand if you read the book). Anyway...

Something really on my mind, chewing at my innards like an invisible tape worm, is my team situation for next year (or lack thereof). I have thrown my resume all over the US, to every division three pro team and to a handful of the top amateur teams. I have not, however, heard anything substantial from a single team. If you know me, which you must if you are reading this silly morning rant, you know I prefer to plan out everything. If I have to fly solo next year and prove my worth at a few early-season events before being grabbed by a substantial team, so be it; I just want to know NOW so I can plan accordingly. Simply going with the flow, as they say, brings a metallic taste to my mouth and a rash to my hands (not really). A character flaw, I suppose? I have always believed in some sort of upper-tier plan for my life, a belief which spawns undulating sensations of confident serenity and apathy. It will be interesting to discover what is "supposed" to happen for next year. Annuit Coeptis, right? Hah!