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I work a mid-shift now, 11 in the morning till 8 in the evening, lunch around 2pm or so; fairly normal and this allows me to miss both rush hours of traffic. Mornings, I wake early and drive my wife to work, then back home and decide what to do with my time before heading in. Today, I’ve decided to break the monotony a bit and come up to the coffee shop for breakfast. There are very little things I’m noticing about myself and others, and this goes on throughout life, especially as one enters a new area of experience and location and must adapt and become at home with it as best as possible. That’s what binds me to Dostoevsky is that he constantly toiled to understand every aspect of human nature, especially the downtrodden and tweaked. His character M. in The Idiot enjoys breaking open conversations with strangers; whenever he gets the chance he introduces himself, to “make acquaintance,” to delve into important issues of the period such as capital punishment, and so on.

It is Thursday and I am alone here with the minutes and the swish swash of traffic and tall white ladies grabbing tall drinks and getting back into their tall cars. Some of these ladies are quite attractive, the redheads. The minutes subtract back and force movements on me: wind the purchased drink down, surrender your table to someone new, gather belongings, jump into car and put in eight or more hours of time into something completely different.

Last night I was trained in the dark room how to load and unload various types of media. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve switched jobs and have returned to poster plotting, the art of making posters, prepping digital files to inkjet destinations. I’ve done this in the past, but it’s been awhile and so there are some things I have to regain, some which are brand new, because of newer or different technology. In some areas I’m an apprentice, in others I am teaching, bringing in what I already know in order to help speed up or improve upon their established process.

My big challenge always is in situating myself in a new environment, making myself at home. Same goes with my cat Kalika; every time we move, it takes her days before she makes herself known again. We hide because we fear our bodies, minds, egos, will be harmed.

And that is all for now.