I have friends who run a cost-benefit analysis on every decision. And they’re always measuring things up against Time. Freakin, Endless, Time. I think I’m one of them, too. May it never be so.
I remember why I’ve never liked the stacks: these chairs are pretty much the least ergonomic chairs ever built, on par with medieval torture devices.
I remember why I’ve missed the stacks: being here makes me feel smarter. And how time somehow seems to stands still, but that might be the artificial lighting and the fact I’m fifty feet underground.
There was a study done a long time ago where a woman volunteered to live underground for like a month. And they measured her sleep cycles, and it went wack by about a week (can anybody name this study or correct me if I’m wrong?). I always wondered what kind of music you’d listen to if you were underground for that long. And if she ever figured out how to work a Rubik’s cube. Being underground for that long seems like a good way to determine cube optimization strategies.
Oh, essay. The closer I get to the end, the harder it gets to write. 9 pages down, three to go and I’ll either finish in one hour or in six.
Edit: it was six.