Stanford Parking

On March eighteenth I noted that I left at around 430 and I knew that I didn’t have to rush but when I got to MV there was a train loading.  I shouldn’t have been so impatient to get to the platform because it turned out that a fatality had caused hours of delays.  I decided to go to PA at this point but got angry halfway through.  I made the mistake of going to Alma and had to endure the baleful looks and honking from the cars that passed me.

My bike bridge failed at PA.  I made jokes for about an hour with patient but edgy commuters and was ultimately rejected by the very same train that I had skipped for better.  I had to wait for three trains to pass before I caught a local to MiB.  I had secured my bike and asked to sit across from a man that turned out to be my twitter friend’s brother.

He remembered me from his brother’s opening.  He was having a beer and offered me baked chips.  He told me that he had come to SF after his brother and sister.  I told him about my family’s background.  We discovered that we both knew about GIS.  He worked with capital planning.  I told him about my work and when he learned that I had applied with a guy at Stanford Parking he told me interesting stuff about the job for which I had applied.  Apparently the capital planning unit had poached a person from their group.

As I was getting off he mentioned the flyer I had handed out, which was surprising.  I sent a message to my twitter friend while I was waiting at MiB.  At DC I texted John about going to Parkside and then rode to JS—the merger was terrible—and on to Ocean.  Unfortunately, Parkside was packed for Paddy’s day so I went home.  There I fell into a black mood. Dad followed me around the house until I left.  I told him about the fatality and then went to pizza place for an uninteresting meal and a beer.

Back at home I went through the motions.  I posted and checked viewership.  I looked at tax papers including the 8863 form.  I texted some friends and was asleep at 11.

On the morning of the day that I wrote this I was up at 615 and noted the phone wasn’t good at getting me up.  I left at 630 and noted a difference of 20 minutes on my departure is a difference of one hour on my arrival.  I noted that Rivera and Santiago always have at least one car and that Ulloa usually has four as I am climbing to 19th around then each morning.

At lake side two guys slowed me down and at DC the train couldn’t get me to MiB in time so I had to take the combo local trains (via PA) that are as good as the later bullet.  I rode through SV after that and made it to work at 920.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.