Lone(ly) Ranger

I'm in between bites of lean chicken doused in organic ketchup accompanied by kosher pickles. It's lunch time at the desk (again). I've been tasked with opening up the throttle on the current project in order to make good time. That translates into (far) more time at the desk. Both at home and in the cubicle.

I am a lonely design code zombie.

I'm not sure how you react to overwork. But what I feel the most is loneliness. Constant. Like a block of cement on my chest. It's very difficult to remove.

I know I'm lonely because music isn't working. I even tried listening to The Beastie Boys' Intergalactic Planet Gathering, just to mix things up a bit.

Nothing.

I got nothing past the last second of beats and sound.

Normally, I'm an avowed, professing, non-workaholic who heavily denies being preoccupied with work of all kinds for the sake of being around loved ones and living a full life full of purposeful activity. Today, my avowements feel like paper airplanes crashing into the river of denial, getting soggy and sinking. No sign of'em. Just gone. All my self-sayings of not being a workaholic are, in fact, just sayings.

Now, to clarify, I do believe that there's a time for building something. A time for exertion beyond the norm. Yes, I'm all for that. But, what I've experienced is the constancy of such exertion over the past five-to-six years and it's times like these that I feel the let-down. The temporality of it. The flimsiness of it.

Maybe, I'm just tired.

I'll finish the chicken, pickles and ketchup. The Diet Coke. And get back to it. The sooner the better to finish up.

"Done is beautiful." ~ Frank Chimero