Closing in on 3pm. Watching again, waiting again. Repeating what has been tried before, ready to see different results after minor modifications. Not sure where to draw the line between realistic expectations and betting on random positive side-effects. Hope is not a strategy but it also doesn't hurt.
#outerworld #home office hours #concrete city #later that afternoon
Einige Blöcke entfernt, Bürowechsel. Konfuser Slalom um die Markierungen. Wegwarte und Gerste wuchern neben Lichtmasten und die Ampeln bremsen gerade dann aus, wenn die Zeit knapp, die Eile groß ist. Durchatmen an der Kreuzung. Milchige Sonne, spärlicher Wind, Gedanken schon wieder einige Schritte voraus, zwischen dem Plan und der Hoffnung, die irgendwie daran hängt. Immer.
#outerworld #home office hours #where we do what we do #concrete city
3pm, some stakes driven in, at least as a metaphor. Stepping out of thoughts for a moment to watch the mind spin and race by until it notices and pulls one in again. (Also, a temporary floating through trivia and irrelevant yet interesting knowledge. Big wheels. And corresponding bits. Very niche kinds of history, but sometimes still discovered.)
(Closing in on 8am, temperatures rising. Status codes talking about things not found and things moved, and sometimes exchange of information would benefit from being as easy and obvious as that - until taking a closer look and seeing the ambiguities in this too. The pitfalls of misunderstandings and not caring enough.)
#outerworld #concrete city #home office hours #where we do what we do
3pm and on, changing places clothes desks networks moods. And considering tasks at hand that can be pursued even in limited operation mode. Pondering fallback strategies. And dependencies. No good storylines for a cup of coffee.
#outerworld #concrete city #home office hours #where we try to do what we are supposed to do
3pm and on. The small tasks the big questions and the odds and ends in between. Where is our soul when our mind keeps pondering? Invalid routes, naming issues and a plethora of problems in between. It never works at first. And all too often one stops counting until it actually does.
#outerworld #home office hours #concrete city #where we do what we do
Mittag, irgendwann, einige enttäuschte Sonnenwünsche später und fest verankert im Grau des Moments, das sich an allen möglichen Ebenen des bewussten Tages festhält. Pause, Imbiss, als Vorüberfliegen; plötzlich sind einige weitere Minuten verstrichen, man hat gegessen und erinnert sich nicht so recht, was genau. Unbeantwortete Nachrichten, im Treppenhaus diskutiert eine Nachbarin mit ihrem Teenager-Sohn, inhaltliche Fragen verstecken sich hinter dem Ton, der recht klar werden lässt, wer gerade in die Defensive gerät. Postboten, gestürzte Mülltonnen, Männer umherstreunend auf Abwegen und an der Haltestelle warten Jugendliche auf den nächsten Bus. Konfuse Stunden, ohne Linie und Richtschnur. Selbst der Kaffee bleibt heute träge.
9am and on. A first stop on a fast lane, watching the pieces of the day fall into their places. Communication lines, open issues, and holes in safety nets. Understand what's broken before attempting to fix it. A simple order of things, maybe too simple at times.
Almost 4pm again. Talking epsilon environments, floating objectives and hidden pareto efficiencies. Topics too huge and demanding to really embrace, by now. Resorting to routine tasks instead: Minutes taken, calendar pruned, window opened wide. There's music but unsure whether emitted by the outer world or some hidden tab and maybe that's not even relevant now.
8am, indecisive and mechanically awake. The first noise to settle, the waves of people in the streets to calm down, the first requests denied. Unidirectional importance, different priorities and in some situations, communication patterns do reveal an unsettling asymmetry in inter-personal relations. Things one doesn't want to see early a day.
#outerworld #concrete city #home office hours #where we do what we do
Kristian