10:00 p.m. | 2005-05-10 Origins. Today, I was really determined to do some writing. Workwise. In case you didn�t know, I write for a living. Not anything you�d want to read, mind you, but still I write. Except when I�m doing a gazillion other things such as attending meetings, proceedings and well, lunch. When I�m not reading, doing research and completing pesky administrative tasks. Pretty much? Yeah, the main part of my work happens at home. Where I�m not distracted and can actually write. That�s just sad. True. But sad. Anyway, I had this delusional thought that I could actually write at work today. To further this goal, I shut my office door. (I don�t normally do that as it�s often perceived as an anti-social type of statement.) Early in the morning, however, NewCollegue knocked, came in and introduced me to a ProfessionalGuy (PG) and asked if I had some time to talk to him. Of course. PG sat down and proceeded to talk about a specific file that I�m handling. So, I participated in an impromptu discussion with a PG I�ve never met. (Reference: See above where I complain that I can�t get any writing done. This is one � of a thousand � reason why that doesn�t happen. I�m not complaining though, just this is how my days result in no writing.) PG and I had a rather interesting conversation. He was talking about a subject that I have some knowledge of as I�ve spent years researching it. I think that surprised PG. I must say that PG is at least a couple decades older than me and I�m guessing he thought I was at least a decade younger than I am. Maybe a decade and a half. Not sure, but I know that older gentlemen peg me a lot younger than people my own age do. Hell, even NewBoss � who�s younger than I � consistently thinks I�m at least seven years younger than him even though I�m actually about seven years older than him. I understand all that since I�m horrible about figuring ages and 20-something people look like children to me. So, PG and I were having this very smooth conversation about this specific topic when this happened. (PG:) Where did you come from? (CI:) (Squelching the obvious answer: MyMother; moving through all the states and discarding that approach; mentally scanning my resume and throwing all that aside.) Um� from MyOldWorkPlace? (PG:) Oh, okay. We eventually ended our conversation, he took one of my cards and we shook hands goodbye. Oh, and since he�d stopped by to talk about this, I gave him a rather lengthy list of things (facts) I need from him. That�s normal. He just saved me a few phone calls by dropping in. Love that. After he left, I stopped by NewColleague�s office to let her know that I appreciated her assistance in directing PG my way. NC knows him, so we had a brief discussion about that. Then this happened. (CI:) PG did ask me one question that threw me a little. (NC:) Yeah? What�s that? (CI:) He asked me where I came from. (NC:) Did you say: my mother? (CI:) I wanted to, but no I didn�t. (NC:) Good for you. I would�ve. Trust me, NC would�ve. NC doesn�t edit much. I try to. In other news, I have three meetings tomorrow and the Farmer�s Market is back. Can�t wait to hit the Market. So, three meetings and lunch. Plus I have proceedings that I need to watch. That writing I didn�t do today? Probably not gonna happen tomorrow. At least on work time. However, tomorrow night? Yeah, I�ll work that writing around ANTM. I can only do so much, you know? your thoughts? seed flower