Something truly spectacular is happening with the weather in DC right now. It's about 80 degrees out, very little humidity. It's quite comfortable outside! Tourists are lucky to get a reprieve from what is usually the hottest week of the year. We're going to get rain again this weekend - that usually helps cool things off and wash some of the haze (read: pollution) and humidity out of the air.
Holy schmokes, I cannot believe it is nearly August. Gasp. Where oh where is this year going? I know I sound like a broken record, but TIME FLIES, Y'ALL. Soon it will be fall. How I love fall. LOVE. Cooler temps, sweaters, colorful leaves crunching underfoot, freshly sharpened pencils and the smell of chalk, football ... sigh. I should be a prof at a northeastern university, I think. One of the many lives in my head.
As much as I think I want to do something else with my life than what I am doing now, I also can't conceive of leaving this job. As much as I complain and disdain, and as much as I know there are other interesting and important things to do with one's time, in my heart I really like what I do. I like the impact I have. I like being part of history. My name will probably never be written in the history books, but I like knowing I had an influence on events. When people in the future are writing about missile tests and nuclear nonproliferation and targeted financial sanctions, I will know that I had a hand in it. I made things happen. Big things that set off dominoes with GLOBAL effects. What other job can you wake up and see your work on the front page of the papers several days a week?! Trade offs I guess, right?
So, I'm on the metro this morning. The lady I sit next to decides to strike up a conversation with me, despite the fact that I'm listening to my iPod. She wants to talk about how beautiful this furry-looking ... thing is that the lady across from us is knitting. I was watching the lady and actually thinking I felt sorry for her 14 year old neice who will probably have to wear it to school and will get teased by EVERYONE because she's wearing a cotton-candy-pink charpei that her aunt knitted feverishly on the metro. Meanwhile, the guy on the other side of the car is reading the Express paper and intently picking his nose. Picking and picking, digging very seriously. Occasionally he wipes one of his treasures on the paper, flips the page and resumes his digging. Then he starts on the other side. It goes on like this the entire time I'm on the train. I have no idea what could possibly have been IN there?