(Phaysis)

First week of the new year. 51 more until the next.

Sitting at Epoch having some much-needed caffeine. Yeah, you heard me…I am at Epoch. I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s something about every coffee shop that just bugs the shit out of me, and over time, it all evens out. Every place sucks. So much so that I bought a french press, but even though my apartment has fucking awesome wireless, great seating, killer music, and absolutely no problem with parking, it’s practically empty. There’s nobody there. So over the holiday break, I got epically bored out of my mind and decided to break my personal ban on Epoch. Now it’s just another humdrum option out of a handful of other humdrum options.

So anyway, I’m having coffee. I think it’s starting to kick in. Usually some time around 5 o’clock my head just caves in and I feel like all my sugar and will and concentration and vision just goes away like wet ashes. And that’s when I need coffee. Usually, by the time I leave work an hour or so later, I’m at wits end trying to concentrate on the road home.

I’ve got a big project at work, and it finally started after three days of false starts. A coworker has spent the past year writing on a suite of tools to allow the automation of some of our hardware data collection efforts. We finally had a reason to apply his software to our setup, and after several fits and starts while trying to fit the hammer to the nail, it’s finally up and working.

Right now, it’s banging away in the lab and doing nicely. We got it running at 5:30, and I decided that instead of letting it run for part of its cycle before killing it when I leave for the weekend, I would go ahead and let it finish its full run since the data is so important to those who deem it so. I would’ve done that regardless except the actual testbed setup needs to be shut down afterwards. There are parts of the equipment that don’t need to be running idle all weekend, so my plan is to return to work tonight at 10 and shut it down when it’s done.

Which is why I’m here having coffee and a slice of pizza. I got time to kill, and a need to fill. Sucks that I have to go back to work on a friday night, but I’ll be there for, what, half an hour.

Speaking of work and billable time, I got an extension on my contract. My manager has been pressing Human Resources to get me converted to permanent for the past few months, and now that the company’s on hard times, the economy’s in the dumps, blah blah blah, HR has frozen all open requisitions company-wide. So I can’t get converted, at least not this quarter. So instead of hiring me permanently, they extended my contract another six months…which puts me over the company-standard 24-month limit on contracts. So, if anything happens in May (the 24th month), it happens. Elsewise, I finish the contract extension and see what happens at the next end.

I’m glad that my manager was able to impress upon HR how important my position is. I just hope that I can live up to that.

Some weeks ago I was asking for some kind of sea change in my outlook, looking for some kind of change in my life, something to make life less stale, more inspired.

I got what I was asking.

Last week I got curious and spent a few evenings looking through the boxes of photographs I’ve taken, all of them from 1993 to the present. This encompasses several eras of my life, from the latter half of my time at OBU to my first post-college residence in Texarkana, to my time in Greensboro, to my time back in Texarkana, and then the 5 years here in Austin, so reviewing these pictures was a flood of memories. The exercise gave me a more level perspective on my current life and I drew renewed ideas as I looked at those pictures. The people, the places, the memories. The ex girlfriends.

I found the pictures of a girl whom I consider the best girlfriend I’ve ever had, the girl from North Carolina. Our relationship in ’97 was incredibly brief and bright, interrupted by my sudden but necessary move back home. Things were starting to warm up between us and then *foop* it was cut short. We kept in touch in the early part of ’98, and she spent her spring break in Texarkana visiting me for a wonderful week before she returned to North Carolina. Some bad stuff went down in her life shortly thereafter and during the following summer we lost touch.

A few months after I moved here in 2000, I was in my bedroom cleaning out my wallet of all the crap that had accumulated. Pulled cards out, slips of paper, receipts. I found her old number and froze. All I had to do was call, but the uncertainty and trepidation took over and I put the number to the side. I drummed up the courage some weeks later and called only to find that the number was dead. So I made the determination to find her; but each time I searched online and found fresh leads, I felt creepy about digging for an old flame and put the information to the side, to never act on it. And I’ve been doing that dance for 5 years.

Well, the pictures I found of her Wednesday night enboldened me. Enough. Enough of the waffling, of the creepiness, of the uncertainty. If she is with someone else, then I will know. If she is still alive, then I will know. If she still thinks of me, then I will know. So I did a new search for her, combined it with the old searches and followed those leads. I sent out emails to people who had websites that referenced her asking if they knew her and could do the contact info forwarding thing. Done. That was easy enough.

Friday morning I awoke to an email from her in my inbox. Elated, I wrote her back before I left for work and after work called the number she provided me. We talked for an hour and it was good. Gave truncated, annotated histories; tried to compress 7 years of the past into a phonecall. She’s had a rough rollercoaster ride since ’98, the troughs and peaks fiercely overshadowing my own thrillride. But there’s still so much more to catch up on, much more to explore. We’re back in touch, and it is good that we’re talking again.

So. These new developments have me rethinking my own lifestyle, about my future, about my state in life. Without going into much detail, I’m looking for a renewal in my income, in my goals, in my motivations. I’m at a heavy time and I have heavy concerns now. It’s time to put the unnecessary parts of trepidation aside and take some responsibility instead of floating along on hopes and comfort zones. I’m taking the little steps to examine the way I think, the thought processes, the emotions, trying to understand them and, finally, to control them for my own betterment, like a watered-down method of zen buddhist meditation. If I can help myself in any way to take things into my own hands, I won’t find myself irrelevant at 40 and hungry at 58.

And so there it is. There is my sea change. These are heavy, pregnant times.