Bought the tickets for Lenny's gig and read Isaacson's book on Jobs over the weekend. Walked a lot. Hardly spoke to anybody. Calmness. Inner purity. Naivety? What was I thinking? This meant to be just the quiet before the storm.
Came to work too early on Monday morning and did not cool off for a single moment of the standard twelve hours. Barked a lot. Sent a full hundred of emails, some pretty harsh ones, too. Intense, restless day. Few swift meetings. Why do people talk bullshit to express simple ideas?
My hitched perplexed mind cannot stop wondering what is to come. I seldom feel so vulnerable, so naked. But maybe more so is she and it's me who fucked up. By even thinking about it.
I'll rip you apart — I'm being told fondly.
And I just keep wondering.
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