The Most Telling Move

Late. On a day of complete freedom, with few predetermined appointments, I still failed in running until far too late into the evening, and thus haven't started writing, reading, or preparing for work tomorrow as yet. I went to a games store (and bought a card game - I haven't done that in some time), went to a used bookstore (and bought only 3 books. What restraint!), played some disc golf, read a bit of Everything is Illuminated, skyped the guys, ate dinner, played a board game that lasted all night, and only just now finished running in the light drizzle for a while.
In other bright news, I fixed my desktop drivers and wireless such that I can use it again (I can work on dual screens instead of lappy386 all the time). A pleasant day. As I was running and listening to my audio book (best way to run ever), I was contemplating subtlety and cunning. When I compete, I often pick what I deem the most effective strategy. I know some people who always play aggressive, always play sneaky, always play through knowledge. I pick the most effective strategy, whatever it happens to be, and mold my tendencies into that strategy. Yet, if I had to select my favorite, cunning was always my preferred method of conquest - winning through intelligent process and careful analysis.
I enjoy games, but I enjoy them far less than people, now. This was not always so. And in the games today, as I lost and my opponents asked me how my horrible game felt (they are competitive sometimes in a bad way. I was there once), I simply smiled and said, "It's good to be outside with friends." They had no response. In the greater game, I made a move they could not counter with their existing strategies, and it captured their hearts a bit. Sneaky? Perhaps. But a good move, I'd like to think. I've made another move today, the most telling one, perhaps. Now we just have to wait and see whom it heals, and whom it breaks.

A friend of mine's mother may be dying soon. Pray for them, and her. And everyone else. I've a tough decision to make here soon, so pray I make the wise one. Lord, please help me make the right one.

Mostly Harmless Days - Don't Panic

Work has been crazy this week. My boss asked me to finish something before work finished yesterday at 4:30, expecting me to finish before 5. He said it was pivotal. I worked until 6:30. Today, while scraping the internet (parsing: my job has me writing internet crawlers that nibble information from school websites), a whole series of schools banned us for hammering their sites. Needless to say, my boss was displeased in the same way bees dislike having their hive punched in the face. Not my fault, but there wasn't anyone else to blame, either.
On top of that, several schools broke unaccountably, and fingers are pointed. But, strangely enough, I'm feeling pretty good. I think I have the best of all possible friends. Last night, a couple of my best friends made me dinner (since I got off work so late, I didn't have time to make it), watched a movie with me (Sherlock Holmes), loved on me etc. I'm incredibly grateful for their care. Matthew tried calling me 3 times in a row to find out how I've been doing - though I ignored all three calls because he tends to call me at the busiest times... suspicious, Matthew, suspicious. Skype with A tonight, with Ben soon (Wednesday? Remind me), dinner with C and M on Wednesday and a morning with P on Wednesday morning. Thursday, dinner with AH, Friday soccer. I definitely have the best of friends.
I'm not certain why I'm reminded of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on such days, but I am. Perhaps it is because the levity can be so valuable when your boss is miffed. Plus, I don't work Wednesdays, and know I've only hours to go until a fabulous tomorrow (and a fabulous tonight skyping A)

Stay on target...

I was doing so well with blog posts for a time, and time, or lack thereof, is killing me. I always try prioritizing journal, anyway, so I suppose as long as I get journaling time in, I'm not completely at a loss. There are always choices, I suppose. I can either play soccer in the rain with the best of people, or not; I can enjoy delicious food with friends I will not see again this year, or not; I can enjoy the company of friends for tea and swedish pancakes and books and entertainment and long conversations into the night, or not; I can tell stories to friends that take three hours, delaying the inevitable tragedy in a rising storm of climactic peril, torturing them in Arabian Night's fashion, or not. These choices are not difficult. But sometimes the things I miss are equally pleasant, in their time: reading, writing, introvert time (scarce, these days), listening-to-the-rain-time.

There are always opportunities missed in either direction. The drizzling rain created the most dazzling of rainbows over the grassy park, shooting out from the pines and firs in a glorious array of colors that arced against the sky. Then, when the sun set, the sky assumed a rare pinkish hue, almost fuchsia, that sparked the clouds alight like a pillar of flame. It brought to mind the Exodus of the Israelites: what would that have been like, a pillar of flame by night? As a child, I always imagined a tornado of flame - how cool is that? Digressions. If I had stayed home and read, I might have been recharged, but surely would not have enjoyed the exquisite sunset, the chance to run in the rain, the delightful squish of grass between my toes, the holler of happy voices playing soccer, the joy of being with friends and telling stories, the love of praying, holding hands, and asking God for a glorious game.

I also had to say goodbyes this week, which is bittersweet.