I try to keep in mind the beginning of The Great Gatsby:
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
With this entry, I become Y2K compliant. I hadn't been using four digits in this site's filename dates until today. Come to think of it, my usage of the 4-digit year has been sporadic at best; it must become habitual at once.
Another one of these tedious status meetings today - as I predicted previously the frequency has been reduced - it's now every other week instead of weekly. Today's cookies, homemade, were very good - cake-like & crunchy rather than squishy - but what do you think of people who talk during meetings? I mean, someone will be standing up next to the view-graph projector droning on, and two people sitting nearby have a semi-whispered conversation? And sometimes just at a regular conversational volume, like they're at a movie or something <1>. I think it's disrespectful, selfish and distracting. However, in some work environments this behavior has become common. I remember a project review I attended a few years back, with the Army - maybe two dozen plus people, a packed meeting - and there would always be a few of these little side discussions going on, with participants coming and going. Today's meeting was blissfully short, calm & uneventful, unlike the earlier horror - that was the time I selected a healthy box of grape juice from the drink table on my way in. After carefully inserting the little pointy straw I took a sip, and then somehow lost track and suddenly realized I'd squeezed the box, spraying its purple contents all over my white shirt. Fortunately my rôle was so minor I could easily fade, but some perturbed looks were thrown my way as I fled.
Long talk with D today. Even though G has returned, things are not peacefully resolved between them. She is newly into chakras and tennis.
Can't begin with the beginning of Gatsby and not end without the great ending:
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning -I was delighted to find the green light represented in the recent 23¢ F. Scott Fitzgerald stamp.
Y2K - year 2000
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