At work I have daily respites from the mudane office life of computers and meetings and training classes, blah blah. Someone, somehwere along the line was thoughtful enough to have included several little courtyards in the design of the building (i'm sure they were originally designed for smokers during the 60's or 70's but they are now split 50-50.) Anyhow, during breaks and lunch I head outside for some sunshine and fresh air (well, close enough considering the interstate is around 150 feet away.)

Sometimes I just sit with my head back and nap for 5 or 10 minutes. Sometimes I just sit and watch the squirells dart around. Mostly I pull up a chair, put my feet up on a bench and read for 15 or 20 minutes in between doses of flourescent light at my desk. I think I'd go crazy without some brief timeouts from the day. Its not like I have a high pressure job or something but I can't for the life of me figure out how people survive office life.

I read all sorts of things while at work (many of which get me quizzical looks from my co-workers.) Currently I'm working my way through a biography of writer John Fante called Full Of Life by Stephen Cooper. You can't imagine how many times in the past two weeks I've explained who he is. Not that I have some elitist view ("oh, you don't know who John Fante is, well..."), just the opposite, but I am by nature a rather shy person and somehow carrying a book around makes everyone feel like they have to say something or comment and then I, in turn, feel like an elitist when I explain why I'm reading whatever it is I'm reading.* Maybe I'd be ok with it if it was ever some cute girl but, alas, it never is. Even better would be a cute girl who already knew who he was and had something interesting to say about him. Girls who are smarter or better read than I am kill me (so long they've never set foot in graduate school - at least in a liberal arts field.)

What's my point you might ask? What is ever the point with these type of things? (these type things being blogs) Well, since you asked, I think the main point is vainty but I can live with that.

*[for the record, John Fante was an author who mainly wrote autobiographical fiction in 1930's Los Angeles all about being a first generation poor Italian immigrant. After publishing three books and several short stories he became a hack script writer in Hollywood. He was out of print for the rest of his life and wasn't re-published until (ug) Charles Bukowski began to champion his works in the late 70's. His best known work is the terrific Ask the Dust but I prefer Wait Until Spring, Bandini about his childhood in and around Denver. How's that for a brief book report?]