I heard that song while driving down the 280 this morning, the song that takes me back to our time together. I used to watch you and your friends singing it together. You all knew every word.

Those mornings in Santa Cruz will stay with me forever. Waking up beside you made me so happy. After watching you laying in bed sleeping, I'd look up and watch the cloudy skies above and wonder how the hell I got so lucky. You would finally wake up and we'd spend another hour talking, holding each other and joking around. I remember we could hear cows mooing, quite loudly sometimes, we'd joke that they were trying to make some kind of political statement.

"Mooooo!"

Sometimes I think I'll never have mornings like that again.

Well, I woke up from that day dream when the song ended, and realized I'd been driving almost 90 miles per hour without even being conscious of the road. I had planned to take the train, but there was some kind of network crisis at the office, and I needed to get in quickly.

That crisis was a group of twenty something twerps from a prominent management consulting company throwing a temper tantrum in our third floor conference room. Apparently, they entered our office expecting to be treated like royalty - expected us to buy their breakfast and lunch, give them network access in our conference room, do everything their way. Since I was giving them something they really needed, they treated me okay, but I heard they treated the rest of our staff, particularly the women, like crap.

Look, I could care less if you're half my age and almost make as much as I do, but you need some kind of perspective on things. After my initial attempts at setting up a small hub failed, I went into my office and dug through my server closet until I was able to find my secret weapon - an industrial strength hub with almost twenty ports. It was over-kill, but I figured if this didn't work, nothing will. In any case, it's sheer size impressed these folks, and once I got it working they seemed genuinely thankful. As I walked out, the receptionist asked me what the hell they needed a network for, anyway. I told her that after struggling for nearly three hours to get this to work, I hoped they were working on the cure for cancer.

While I was setting up the network, I was able to act like a fly on the wall, while they discussed a bunch of candidates they were interviewing. There was no attempt at any kind of professionalism, just catty comments on any little faux pas these nervous candidates made. Someone had a letter from a rival firm in their portfolio. Someone came 45 minutes early. Some people were "really quiet." That's how objective the hiring process is - it's just a screening process to get into their little clique, and once you're in, you can feel so superior to everyone else.

And they took way too long to get out of the office, too, which made me really upset because I needed to clean out that network from the conference room. The room was a disgusting mess - they obviously didn't care what they left behind, so I spent some time helping the room scheduler clean up the mess.

By the time I got home, I was suprised and happy to see the results. Gonzales, the guy I finally voted for, was second, behind Newsome, and there would be a run-off. Fine, I thought, Newsome will probably win, but at least we'd make him spend some more of his ill-gotten fortune.

music:

night life:

sex life: