This week I flied over to SF for a one-week get-together. I almost forgot how flying is, really, but it was way more relaxing than I thought. The security in Munich was a bit funny. As I waited in line, a uniformed, blonde girl in her twenties winked me up, introduced herself as security officer and started to ask very detailed questions about what I do for the living. That dialog started off a bit like a first-level job interview with a realitvely fresh HR colleague doing some sanity checks on ones resume, but then it veered off unexpectedly.
“But what exactly do you do? What kind of software are you working on, precisely?” she asked.
Well, this question often elicits a surprisingly inadequate response from me. What is this exactly that I do? Is this what I should be doing? Why am I doing this at all? Why not am I doing something else? Why am I here in the first place? This internal monologue invariably kicks off and takes valuable seconds away from the short window of opportunity to give a coherent, timely answer without veering into morose retard territory.
“Ok, off you go”, she said with some tiredness in her eyes and winked me through,
Anyways, the 12h flight passed through without any major incident.
I watched two good films and one really great one.
Like something almost being said;
The recent bugs relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
