Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Focaccia Hot or Cold? BART without a book & the countdown to cubicle land.

Blogging @ lunch, it's a first. Lunch: salad from home featuring my favorite, the lemon cucumber, accompanied by focaccia from the bakery downstairs, begs the question: focaccia hot or cold?

Realized today that I have less than two months left in plush office land in Rockridge before ED upgrades to the 28th floor of 123 Mission Street, SF. This means cubicle land is not far off...I started thinking about everything I'll miss:
I will miss spending lunches at the bookstore across the street, sax man @ 4:30, sweet samples from the bakery, killer salsa bar @ Cactus, local produce downstairs, chocolate covered almonds, thai patio lunches, take out fresh ravioli with arrabbiata sauce, the Rockridge library that never has what I'm looking for, the used clothing store fueled by Rockridgites & CCA students, walks in the hood. But most of all I'll miss my tree, my two windows, and the ability to close my door. I've been spoiled & I don't want it to end. I won't miss the commute and its accompanying price tag=$160/month.

Last random thought of lunch...I finished my book on the MUNI ride over today, found myself without a pen for writing or book for reading in the face of a 25 minute BART ride. Panic. I took to people watching in my uncaffeinated state and saw a BART standby, the ruthless couple fight. What is it about BART that leads couples to implode? Is it the lights? The waiting? The gross carpeted seats? I've been there before, and it's not pretty. What's so ruthless about BART fights is that they take place in silence. Seething anger silence is the worst. It hangs in the air. But you can't have an all out screaming match on the BART, it's just not how we do. So instead you have these painful silences...
In said morning fight, woman & man wait for east bay train. they talk. then woman walks away from man with luggage. man smiles. thinks: this must be a joke. oh no honey, she's not joking. she gives him the icy cold shoulder, all the way from Civic Center to 19th street, ouch. You can feel the seething anger in the air. Finally, Woman finds solace in a book. Boy finds solace in a spoon. Yes a spoon, I don't know where this spoon came from, but he pulled it out of his large backpack and began to channel all of his thoughts & emotions into this silvery spoon. This is not looking promising. Woman gets off at 19th. Man slouches behind. As we pull away from the station I get a glimpse of him lugging her suitcase up the stairs. maybe they survived the BART after all.

I think this is both the first & the last of my blogging at lunch. Time to go outside.

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