“ I'm so happy doin' the neutron dance.
And I'm just burning doin' the neutron dance.”
Jumping back into work almost immediately after getting back in the state is always intense.
There are two main drivers behind this action. The first is necessity. I can’t afford to take a day off, and with one of our key workers out this week (he’s tackling the final details before his wedding this weekend), we’re already understaffed.
The second is the same crazy logic that I employ when jumping into frigid water: If I just throw myself in, I really won’t have the chance to change my mind mid-flight.
I survived, and it doesn’t seem like my final product suffered to much for it. I started to brag about my survival Monday night, but in the middle of crowing I thought it best to wait a day to see if I arrived the next day to a red ink-stained newspaper with an accompany list of readers who wanted to talk to the editor.
Delayed feedback is an interesting component of my profession. The realization that one has screwed up comes in varied speeds. Sometimes I find my eyes snapping open in the middle of the night paired with the awareness that I messed up a jump. Other times I don’t realize I’ve stepped into it until the next door or even after the weekend.
Fortunately, no notice of blatant idiocy greeted me Tuesday, so I feel better prepared to brag about functioning under stress and the stress the importance of uppers in my diet (sugar, caffeine, whatever they make Pez out of – probably more sugar and amphetamines).
In addition to the belated confirmation I can do my job well under such circumstances, the brightest points of my day was seeing familiar sights and places.
Walking to work along my favorite route was nice, especially soaking in the lack of humidity. I realized I hadn’t mentioned it in my initial arrival post because it was nonexistent, and thus more difficult to notice through its absence.
Reaching downtown, I exchanged multiple greetings in the parking lot. However, the big smile I wore walking into the building was prompted by the sight of a dog relieving itself on the city hall sign across the street.
This is actually a regular occurrence, and there have been office discussions about whether this is trained behavior or if the dog developed it on its own. The answer remains unsettled with the parties divided, though I find myself regularly switching camps.
The other noteworthy, I-guess-I’m-back-in-Rock Springs occurrence I saw when getting back from dinner. No, it wasn’t seeing the sun disappear behind the mountains, though I did get to see that Tuesday night.
After watching the participants set up the linoleum square, do some quick stretches and tweak the boom box, I voiced an observation that, though obvious, I thought needed to be said.
“It looks like Break Dance Boy is back.”
I don’t know who he is. I don’t know his motivations (though in the past, I believe his performance was intended for a nearby female). I do know he regularly sets up catty corner from our parking lot (on the corner not covered by city hall) and tries to break it down to the rumblings of an poorly-amped stereo.
He emptied the press room the first time he performed, drawing people out to see his antics. With more regular performances, the shock value has lessened, but it remains interesting. And if nothing else, I can say he appears to be getting better with practice.
He’s not as classy as the bagpiper who used to perform in the park across from the Missourian building back in Columbia. While Celtic strains at the end of a work day helped ease some of my stress over the summers, I can’t say the same of the
Still, such craziness does provide some comfort in the fact that it is familiar and the status quo can give us a foundation.
Besides, most of us are insane – we just show it in different ways and to different degrees. He may make a fool of himself in public, but I’m the one taking personal time to write about it. Of the two, which one of us is crazier?
I’m leaving others to decide and heading off to bed … once I finish spell checking and finalizing the HTML code on this thing…
Yeah, I’m voting for me, too.
