I'm in the two-week gap between the end of my job and the beginning of OCI. I have a few things to do, but they aren't exactly full-day projects. I have to write a new cover letter. I need some new ties, since most of my ties were purchased during the summer of 1998 and reek of the dot-com boom*. I could re-finish our coffee table, but I think my roomates (who are out of town) would like a say in the color. As a result, I've been a bit of a gym rat and an obsessive apartment cleaner.
Still, I can't help thinking of this guy:
He's the fellow profiled in the Times a couple of weeks ago. Living off his wife and some paltry government payments, he's perfectly content to sit around the house writing novels nobody will ever read and reading books about history. At first blush, it looks fun, but I couldn't imagine keeping up his level of inactivity for more than a few weeks.
Maybe I'll go donate blood.
* Yes, I know that dot-commers didn't wear ties, instead walking around the office in polo shirts, weaving in between the foosball table and the free soda machine. I didn't work for a dot-com, but I was an intern for a Wall Street-related business that did very well during those years.
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