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.
11am and on. Mondays are for meetings, messing with meeting minutes and the momentum of modified code sequences coming into effect. All at the same time. (Multitasking gets stuck the very moment any checkpoint along the way needs manual interactions. And thinking about that. Sneaking ones way through the roadblocks of the day, a long line of tiny steps.)
11am. Stop-and-go. Having hot coffee is difficult in fast task switching mode. Always being just one interrupt away from actually gaining insights. Writing dozens of different stories the same time (and eventually getting entangled in weird relationships between actors from generally unrelated timelines). Also, everything is kind of slow today, including the responses of the model. Maybe conversation topics are too heavy for a sunny late Wednesday morning.
4pm, slowing down. Watching clouds wrestle what's left of the daylight. Reordering the pile of tasks, leaving check marks on some smaller items, feeling like having achieved much more by the act of marking these things done than by actually resolving them. Still, getting ahead one step at a time, with steps being randomly small. But at least seems the direction's not all wrong.
Close to 11am again. And the interesting sensation of how daily task lists looks like, after having gone through the first calls. Moving on fast, leaving behind a trail of poorly scribbled notes, odd grammar and write-only references that become impossible to decypher almost immediately. (Too many tabs open. Both literally and metaphorically. At least, more coffee is still an option today to stay within some usable comfort zone. Letting some autumn wave through the home office, to reconnect with things a bit again. More clouds than sun, by now.)