Part of blogging, I’ve read, is giving a human face to your work. People can better connect, and feel more comfortable giving insight and feedback to people instead of projects. So, since I don’t have anything to report about my main mission, I thought I would detail the intricate process of writing code on a Sunday morning.
Sunday is the day I normally go grocery shopping, so the first thing I do before writing code on a Sunday morning is go grocery shopping, naturally. I choose this day because I find navigating the empty and quiet morning streets preferable to dodging the umpteenth car that’s in a rush to reach a different jam at the next intersection.
I begin preparations for the trip by overthinking my choice of apparel, specifically how warmly to dress my torso. The ritual begins with moving aside the curtains to gauge how warm it might be outside based on the apparent “yellowness” of the building adjacent to the one I live in. I then choose between a jersey and a hoodie.
When that’s done, I walk onto the balcony to gauge how warm it might be based on the wind and perceived temperature of the air. I then choose between a jersey and a hoodie.
Now that that’s sorted, I move to the edge of the balcony to gauge how warm it might be based on how warmly the average person with the same proportion of body fat as myself is dressed. I then choose between a jersey and a hoodie.
I always make the wrong choice.
After getting ready, I head out. The trip is a short walk to the store and is the most tolerable thing one can imagine. I move steadily from street to street and block to block at a pace. I step down onto the road when the journey demands it and back up onto the side walk when the time comes.
I avoid collisions with other citizens with room to spare and shutdown any potentially awkward, shuffle-blocking episodes with a sharply aimed look to the ground. I always respect the traffic signals too, and as soon as always, I arrive.
Upon arrival, I must choose between a single basket or a trolley with two baskets loaded onto it. I once considered using two baskets without the trolley, during a visit when the trolleys were all already in use. I could have arguably pulled it off since I wasn’t there for any heavy items, but the thought of being judged by other patrons was too unsettling; on that day, I chose to buy fewer items instead. I returned the following day.
When neither basket nor trolley is in short supply, the choice is much easier. Less items: basket. More items: trolley. Next, I venture into the aisles.
On uneventful days such as these, the mind tends to collect minor incidents and use them to inspire needless embarrassment at a later part of the day. To shield myself from this, I am careful about how I act and interact with others. I’ll recall previous un-embarrassments when similar situations begin to materialize and respond, this time, with a more well thought out reaction.
Despite the care taken at this stage, the onset of delayed embarrassment is normally out of my control. I usually just complete my purchases and try not to over analyse anything on my way back home.
When I get back home, I unpack the groceries and make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. When that’s done, I power on the computer and meticulously use the keyboard to create computer programs.
Since creating an account, my self-esteem is now dangerously tied to the number of followers I have on Twitter! Please, if you have any humanity, save me from the darkness, take me towards the light! (follow me on twitter if you like my content.)