Sour and Sweaty Stubble

Got my pickup back. The guys at Tech-1 are for real. That’s a bright moment, but generally I’m getting sort of run down after a long couple of weeks. Got that sandpaper face and sticky eyelids.

It’s lonely out here on the edge of the bell curve. My concept of self wants to bend towards egalitarianism, wants to hold that I’m just like anyone else, that all humans are created equal. I still believe that last bit, but we sure as hell don’t all grow up the same, and the more experience I get in life the more I realize how unequal things really turn out. Not just because everyone’s different, and not just because life ain’t fair, but really specifically (for me) because most people can’t do the things that I do.

This isn’t really a source of pride, by the way. It’s more a source of distance and uncomfortability, reminds me of my notes on becoming a class-traitor post; a growing gap coming from my deepening nerdy specialization.

It’s also frustrating being generally quicker-witted and more expertised than most of the people around you, even in your professional domain. Makes for steady disappointment, which makes for irritability, which — given a bit of meta-awareness — makes for general feelings of shame and sorrow. This is the converse of ignorance as bliss.

Closing in on friday gives some hope; old friends tomorrow, and a sweet run north on saturday. With any luck, steady smooth zamboni ice cruising to follow.