On the one hand, perhaps he does not deserve my sympathy. He does not do a very good job and he takes credit without remorse for things he was not integral in accomplishing. But it's not entirely his fault. He was bred this way, within the corporate structure. It's the things that got him ahead, it's negative reinforcement. In the end, he's a sacrificial lamb, a symptom of a bigger problem. Writing about work is not interesting to me though, it's just what happens to be on my mind after the 5 o'clock mark.
My best friend from college e-mailed me today to update me all about his ongoings as a new father. It's amazing, but almost every new parent I have met exhibits the same tendencies: their writing turns mostly incoherent and focuses on the wonders of their new child. Fathers are particularly funny, because they seem convinced that they have been involved in some landmark breakthrough accomplishment that has not been previously witnessed. However, this line from his e-mail was kind of sweet, even to my cold, cold heart:
he often cracks a smile in his sleep, a sight so sweet it makes you shiver with joy
On a completely different tangent, yesterday I was trying to throw away old tapes. Of course, I could not do that without putting each one in the player. The last one I stuck in suddenly blared If you're all alone, when the pretty girls have gone, honey I'm still free, take a chance on me (the lyrics might not be completely accurate, as it's been awhile since I've heard this song). Gave me the giggles for a good five minutes.
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