For you, the dress code is casual.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

it was a dark and stormy night...

Originally uploaded by scribecalledsteff.
(afternoon, really.)

...when our protagonist arrived home from a long and tedious (albeit quiet) day.

our protagonist labours long and hard in the film industry, captioning for the hearing impaired. (or people who like to listen to music as they watch television.) on this unfortunate day, the protagonist was labouring on a bubblegum sequel of a fluffy my-time-of-the-month girl movie. the film wasn't good enough to consume on the side of a paycheque, so why inflict its sub-par dialogue on the unsuspecting public?

there are days when our protagonist finds her work (aha! a she!) extremely rewarding. days when she works on projects that are so smart, so well-executed, that even though the public will never know it was her handiwork... she does. and those are very good days.

sometimes it's something you just really enjoy, a documentary on a subject you fancy, like cosmology, she says, but either way, it's something you're vested in, and that's rewarding. but it doesn't come along often.

today, though, she reports that she has that strange combination of pride and loathing. she didn't enjoy her movie, but she loved the way she did it. it can only be termed a sadly satisfying day, she says.

her day proceeded in a sadly satisfying manner when she was able to leave work a half hour early and hop on her bike to ride on home. she was whizzing along on her scooter at 60 klicks per, when the wind exploded.

then, lightning. torrents. and torrents. and hail. the skies grew dark and the rivers bubbled. well, perhaps not so biblical, but she says it was a real bitch.

getting to the safe harbour of home was the most sadly satisfying event of the day. with her sopping, cold clothes peeled off, she was able to decide it wasn't that bad. she reflected on what a complex and beautiful beast a fine storm is. most times, humans simply know better than to ride careening down a main thoroughfare in blinding torrents of rain with lightning crackling overhead.

sometimes, though, life just works out that way. and it's a bitch when it's on, but when it's done, the smugness sets in: cross that one off the list. it's done like dinner.

it's pretty frickin' cool to be careening down that thoroughfare when the lightning's reflecting through hundreds of thousands of rice-sized droplets of water all charging viciously at you, shimmering madly.

she says.

(she also has a blackhawk for her commute, hence the photo. what? she's hip.)