I’m talking to Alex S. I’m trying to set up time to meet with Vincent so I can tell him that I’m leaving Razorfish. I’m anxious about telling him.
I read a column in Wired magazine that’s like a press release describing what different people are doing professionally.
I’m living in a 1 BR apartment that is dark and dirty. My uncle Ed needs a place to stay and I offer to let him stay at my place, but I warn him that it’s filthy.
There are two big rooms in the apartment. They are both filled up to the ceiling with shelves that are stacked with old computer monitors and black plastic garbage bags. When I look up they seem to go on infinitely, stacks and stacks of garbage.
I find myself thinking that I should not move out of this apartment, there is no reason to leave. I tell myself the apartment is perfectly fine, it’s a nice place, and it’s inexpensive.
