It is completely true that I am working too much

Why do I work so much?

A) I don't really have much else to fill my time
B) There really is that much work
C) I am not very quick about doing my job

I am starting to worry that option A may have more of a hold on me than I'd like. Of course, the majority of the explanation is composed of options B and C. And possibly some other ones, too! Anybody got any ideas what else might contribute?

I Am One of the Luckier Ones

The last week has been very busy - I've been holding down Chicago as well as learning the ropes in San Francisco. I have been working too many hours, and I'm not sure I've been a good friend to myself in doing that. There's certainly enough work to fill all that time, though, so I'm still not sure where I come down on that one.

Today I moved from the hotel to the corporate housing. OHHHHHHHHH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH. It's actually much nicer than I thought it would be. So score there. And I've got my rollerblades back. So score there. And it was 82 degrees and I had a day of complete freedom in California. So score there.

When I tally up some of the major events that have taken place since I got into the Real (and, I had expected, Boring) World, I really have to laugh like a maniac. Or an idiot. Whichever way I'm laughing, it's because of the great and unexpected fortune I've had. Have I somehow forgotten opening a fortune cookie that read "YOU WILL TRAVEL TO A MULTITUDE OF LOCATIONS AND LIVE THERE FOR A WHILE / LUCKY NUMBER 4 8 15 16 23 42"? Adventure keeps dropping into my life, and I couldn't be happier with it.

I guess the only dismaying thing that happened today was when Glen called. What a jerk.

I Am Confuzzled

I've been in California a few days now, and my brain doesn't get it. Why isn't it cold? Where did the palm trees come from? What is this bit with neighborhoods blending into one another instead of changing abruptly?

Where is Chicago?

About a week ago, I had basically decided I was going to move to San Francisco for a few months to help my company out while one of my colleagues was on leave. Do I have time to move my stuff? Where would I move it? Should I sublet? What about my social life? All of these questions remain unanswered. I shipped over my rollerblades, packed some clothes, and got on the airplane.

At O'Hare, I sat in Wolfgang Puck's Express eating my spicy chicken pizza and dividing my attention between closed-captioned CNN and closed-captioned The Contender when all the sudden leaving welled up and smacked me a good one right between the shoulder blades. Boys don't cry, mind you, so I called Mom & Dad instead, and lucky for me my Dad talked me down a bit. But it is hard to pack up and leave so suddenly. There's a lot to feel homesick for.

So I'm confuzzled - culture shocked plus lonely. Strangely enough, I can't wait to get back to work. It'll keep me so busy that I'll be in my comfort zone by about 8:15 tomorrow morning.

So what did I do this weekend? I explored, and took terrible photographs! And I got a haircut, and visited the Pirate Store. There is one in Wicker Park in Chicago - 1331 Milwaukee, as I hear it. While I was there, I bought an awesome piratey item. Unfortunately, I did not get mopped.

Maybe that's why I feel weird tonight - I didn't get mopped. Damn it.

PS. HAIRCUT IS SEXAY OHHHHHHH YEAHHHHHHH

Matthew's Inaugurual California Post of Zoon!

Okay, I'm in California for maybe six months. Umm, details soon!