lucky me

I must live in San Francisco when my day includes:

  • a chair massage at work (thanks, anonymous and mostly silent massage person)
  • yummy Mexican food in SoMa (thanks, MSG)
  • new body jewelry (thanks, Nick from Nomad)
  • a haircut following aromatherapy-enhanced scalp massage (thanks, Emily from Fringe Salon)

I love this place.

Also, I did some work today. I made many mistakes, but I understand why now, and how not to do it again. Also, I understand the importance of documenting the crap out of everything, because it helps people like me who have no real clue what’s going on but must stumble through anyway.

The world did not explode, plus I got things done and people thanked me for them. That felt pretty awesome. I also finally figured out which way the elevator banks point so I can find my side of the floor immediately after debarking instead of wandering around aimlessly with my little badge held out, like just give me something to swipe this at, anything – broom closet, laptop, Furby – I don’t care. I’ll swipe anything. Try me.

Which reminds me: I did not let myself into a broom closet on my second day, and I did not do so in front of the entire I.T. staff. Then I most certainly did not reemerge, saying, “Just making sure the elevator isn’t in there!”


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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.