3pm and on. Moving in test cycles, head spinning. Waiting for long-running jobs is a good way to disappear in multitasking once more. But some things just take the time they need. And at some point one's running out of ephemeral tasks that don't need much attention or dedication. (Rewinding. Taking notes. Forgetting again. And still, outcomes are pending.)
10am and on. Monday constantly playing with different shapes. Across the street, seems people more than usual resorted to working from home today. Still no clouds in a soft blue sky, some sun trying to push light into the narrow streets. (Also, jumping from call to call, hanging up just to hear the sound of a virtual bell ringing again. Considering yet another coffee even though this late morning should have better plans.)
11am and on. Context switching to a point where project silhouettes fade and boundaries dissolve. Copying code, breaking test, scratching beard, wondering. More coffee to the rescue, and a short meditation in the emptiness between seconds to refocus.
10am and on. Each piece of software reaches the point to weed out many minor issues from a vast load of unspecified inconsistent behaviour in upstream systems. That's where things get funny, that's where time is lost by days not hours. (Also: That feeling of relief seeing a meeting that didn't really suit the daily schedule well anymore postponed by someone else. Filling the sudden temporary void with coffee and euphoria to focus on other pressing things.)
Der Tag ist wild, der Mittag ist Sturm. Schwerelose Lindenblätter werden fortgerissen in staubgraue Himmel, auf dem Fußweg zerren die Böen an Werbeflyern der Supermärkte, falten alte Zeitungen um Laternenmasten und treiben kräuseliges Schaudern über die Häute letzter Pfützen. Im Radio hinter der Wand diskutieren aufgebrachte Menschen miteinander in jenem Ton, den man mittlerweile schon als normal einordnet; gegenüber wird neben dem Computer gegessen in trüber Dauerdämmerung. Posteingänge füllen sich schneller, als der Kopf die Themen sortieren kann, mitunter klingeln eigene Telefone, und die Unruhe im herbstlichen Draußen färbt ab, dringt vor und ein, verankert sich tief auch im Drinnen. Heute gibt es nicht zu viel Kaffee.