Changing up

Today I walked in the morning instead of at night as I have been accustomed to doing. It was a refreshing change of pace. I don't have to worry about coming home at an ungodly hour, but now that worry is replaced by the worry of arriving at my next destination (be it work or school) on time. I think it's a fair trade-off.

So now what's keeping me busy is writing songs, besting the other me at Sketchup, and work. I hope that next semester I can get back into the school groove.

Song in my head: Gerry and the Pacemakers, "I'll Be There".

Walking backwards

Now I know what it's like to be carless.

A selfish streak

I don't know why I thought this was the time to buy myself a Nintendo DS. Perhaps I've waited long enough, you know? I mean, the DSi is already selling here on Guam, so I thought I'd pounce.

When I prophesy that my Christmas season was going to be busy, even I did not realize just how busy I was going to get. People left and right were having parties, performances, and the like. A big disadvantage for this year is that the beginning of the Christmas season cut into Final Exams week. So I don't know just how poorly I did, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see the damage. This time around I know I am at fault, though, because I was supposed to have already learned the lessons last semester. And here I am, once again singing the alma mater song for a class I am not graduating with.

At the same time, though, I have a feeling that this time something will be different. It's not really a "good" feeling per se; I guess I'm just feeling a bit... expectant. I haven't felt that in a long time.

Hopefully I could get cracking on those Christmas cards.

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: The Darkness, "I Believe in a Thing Called Love". I apologize if I already had put out this song, but I find it apropos in two levels. One is that it's one of the songs on the game Guitar Hero: On Tour for the DS that I bought.

It's quiet... too quiet.

Today what woke me up was the "Gimme Gimme" ringtone I had in my phone (which, as I am reflecting on it now, I was quite fortunate to set to "ring" last night). Had the phone stayed "silent" that time, I would have missed work. And of course, that would have been disastrous.

Now, this was not what I was planning on writing about, but the more I reflect on that simple action of setting my cell phone to "ring" last night, the more amazed I was about the "butterfly effect" I am observing wround it. Had I not been awakened by that phone call, I would certainly have come late to work, which would have been completely my fault. I would have been censured... heck, I think that once word had got to my boss of such a thing happening I would have been fired on the spot. I wouldn't be writing on the blog today; instead I would have answered a few emails a bit more enthusiastically, and I would have gone to sleep worried about where I would get one more semester's worth of tuition from.

But the action that prevented all that--my setting my phone to "ring"--was comparably insignificant. It was very much an afterthought. I mean, when I went to bed last night I knew I had to be at work at a certain time, but I was confident that I would wake up on time. Now that I reflect upon it, I did not have a conscious reason to set my phone to "ring". I was thinking to myself, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool to hear someone text me in the morning?"

It leads me to an observation: small actions can have big effects. Now, this is something you (and most certainly I) already know, but never before has it been demonstrated for me with such force.

So pay attention. Is that the lesson here?

Thanks for reading.

Song in my head: Jim Brickman, "Destiny".

P.S. Actually, the title refers to an observation my coworker made about the Plantation. It is very quiet here. In fact, the point was driven home for me this morning as well. I woke up to the cell phone ringtone, and when I got off the phone, realizing that I had to leave the house now, without any hesitation, I realized how quiet it was.

There was nothing to be heard other than my thoughts.

Silence is a double-edged sword.