Nothing to do with anything

Every time spring comes around, I can't believe this is the same planet, I feel like I have been transported to the planet I lived on when I was 6 years old or to some exotic vacation planet, I can't believe these are the same trees as before, and all the smells. I can learn to appreciate winter for its snow and Santa Claus, and there is a certain starkness to the bare branches against the blue sky that I find satisfying in the way a black and white photograph is satisfying, but it goes on so long, you start to forget what you were missing. This, right here, is the world. Sometimes the world gives you a bright, shiny, smelly present called SPRING. It happens.

Now that right there was ME talking to MYSELF about THE WEATHER. I think this certifies that the weather, although neutral and uncontroversial, is NOT boring. Why would someone talk to herself about something that is actually boring?

I am finding that my many years of impassioned yet respectful internet dialogues has led to some rather unforeseen benefits in the work place. Now that most business happens over email, this exact form of conversation breaks out almost weekly. Maybe the North Carolina team is again trying to accuse my team of dropping the ball, in front of a CC:-ed audience of 3 to 20 people, or maybe an attorney is displeased with the time frame I give him for completing a task and demands, again in front of a CC:-ed crowd, that I explain myself. I find myself carefully crafting reasoned responses, half to my opponent and half to the rest of the room, and then waiting anxiously for the snooty, angry, accusatory response, for which I have several one-uppers planned. I'm amped and it is game time.  I show the conversation to coworkers who weren't lucky enough to be copied on the email, and we commiserate about how stupid everyone else in the world is. It's the Derek Webb forum all over again.

Bump is PLEADING that I take him for an evening stroll, so I better get going.  I just saw a bunny hopping through my back yard.  Hollaaaaa.