Right now, I am having this Kafka kind of feeling… Can’t really describe it to you… You have to figure it out yourself by either reading his writings or watch the movie “Kafka.”
I had thought that tonight I might be able to get off early for a change.
However, when unexpected events occur, we just need to deal with it…
So, instead of coming home straight to be a couch potato, I went back to the office to be the computer junky.
Just as I am starting typing, I got this phone from my mom, asking me when I will be landing on the day before my birthday.
I was happy to hear her voice. However, I am not quite sure about which flight and when. As her continued to ask me for details, after I told her that I would inform them tomorrow, I found myself starting to get agitated… That is.. within minutes.
I, then, thought to myself… I am tired.
I had the realization when I was on the bus, on my way home.
When I found myself thinking about the Poem of Emily Dickinson, “Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me,” I said to myself, I gotta be REALLY tired to find comfort in the construct called death.
Of course, that might be the depression talking as well since the construct of psychosomatic must have some contribution to my back condition.
My day started late…
I turned off the buzzard that went off at 9:00 only to find myself waking up again at almost 11:00 o’clock.
In a rush, I got to the office, trying to get the handout ready for today’s open house.
After hours of struggle, I finally got this printer cable and was able to start to put the print job to work.
The computer I was using must have sensed my anxiety for it all of a sudden started to act out and didn’t work to do work (so the computer was actually projecting my feelings lol).
The event was supposed to start at 3:00 and people have started tripling in.
Half an hour before the deadline of 3:00, I found myself struggling with the machines that I am supposed to maintain, having difficulties getting publisher to show pictures and unable to send the document to be printed.
Then, at that point, I heard myself calling the name of this trustee who was one of the first to fund this project, asking him for help...
In retrospective, there are two reasons why I was murmuring his name…
First, it was my cultural belief that, after people pass away, they actually still come out to hang out.
Second, the entire place was so busy that I could only insource myself to get my beautiful purple house printed out. lol
Either I got through with the computer, or, I got through with that gentleman and that gentleman got through with the computer, the purple houses came rolling out and time for me to breathe some fresh air.
I went down for a cigarette, and, ended up, I lit the second.
The guy walked past by when my second was lit… “Smoking could kill you.”
Assuming he was commenting on my chain smoking, I responded, “Won’t do it again…”
Thereafter, things went quite smooth and nothing much was going on.
There were many people in this full-house event.
I was introduced to Dr. Gordon whom the campus was named after and I also met the strong lady behind the gentleman (See, behind each great man, there is a great woman).
I gave Dr. Brunner a piece of chicken.
I was in the same house with Dr. Ziegler, who is the mentor of one of my professors (yet, it is such a shame that I did not know that he was there).
I also thought about Dr. Maxine Greene who signed on her book for me, “To my best teacher.”
These are all people with a long trail of scholarly contributions and who have live their life to fruition.
So, on my way home, struggling to keep my balance on the icy sidewalk, I thought of these people.
I thought of the question my daddy posed me once so very often…
“What is your goal in life? What is your career goal?”
I was a bit too tired to think and, at the same time, too focused on keeping my balance on the icy sidewalk to elaborate on my thinking.
In a vacuumed state, on the sidewalk where there are few pedestrians, I thought to myself… “Nothing.”
My steady gaits translate into slow pace and, before I crossed the street, four buses went past the bus station.
Crossing the street, I had another idea, “Donating my brain to run some fMRI studies.” However, nothing is still the main theme.
So I stood along at the bus stop for a while.
All of a sudden, there are all these people coming down the street.
On one side of the shelter the pavement was all icy. On the other side, there is a clear path without ice.
As the crowd coming down the street, I stood by the icy side of the bus stop, telling them to walk through the other side because it was icy and slippery.
Some people took the advice and some people did not.
Among those who did not, some crossed the icy without problem while one fell on his kneel.
When the bus arrived, all those came after me rushed to get on the bus.
I found myself standing there, not in a hurry, and, checking out the sidewalk to make sure there is no one at risk of falling on the ice as a result of rushing towards the bus.
It has nothing to do with me being good or not.
It has to do with I have only 9 blocks to go and, for this short distance, I don’t quite care whether I have a seat, as long as I could arrive at the destination.
The bus came empty and left loaded.
I got on the bus and found myself this spot to stand.
At some point, the couple in front of me, in their late 50s and early 60s, I think, gave each other a kiss.
I saw them kissed each other and commented, “So romantic!”
They must have found that comment funny.
So, sometime after 10:30, I got off a crowded bus on which many people were heading towards Lincoln center.
A guy came running towards the bus and asked me to stop it.
I stood there waving at the driver who wasn’t paying attention towards my direction.
The man finally caught up with the bus and banged on the door.
The driver let him in.
I stood there, watched it happen.
I, then, hastily walked back to my building, thinking along the way, “it’s so very Kafka.”
Along the trip back home, I struggled to keep my eyes open.
When I first sat down at my desk, I felt like simply go back to sleep.
However, I decided to type out this writing about nothing and the to be found importance about nothing.
Then, the phone rang and it was my mother who called.
I realized that it is not really about nothing.
It is about accepting nothing as baseline, accepting the nothingness so as to do something.
This way, each every things is a bonus for the nothingness in life.
This is why, rain or shine, I have to move myself one step at a time and step by step I move.
Nobody else might care about that beautiful purple house of mine with the gradient coloring produced by a printer that is not smart enough to do duplex-copying.
Not too many people would care about the unequal distribution of ice on the two sides of a bus stop.
People might not pay much attention to my e-greetings.
I will not let my boss to work into the night because the replacement of my shift is hard to find during this period of time and at a short notice.
Yours bitch from hell is not trying to represent herself as a good Samaritan.
Rather, all these deeds under the disguise of altruism are loaded with self interest.
It is these events in life that grants me the Kafka moments.
Sometimes I know I am stretching myself too much, but, I kept on stretching if I could because, if there is nothing in the end, there is nothing to lose. Then, instead of sitting there waiting for the nothing to arrive, I might as well have some fun while I have time (ya, if I need to participate in a race, it would be the race with time and I need to remember that.)
Kafka moments are fun to experience and, backed by my birth right called death, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong for me to enjoy my Kafka moments.
(There is no guarantee that the pursuit for Kafka moments would rid me of my bitchiness though... lol)
At the same time, it was today that I asked another boss of mine whether I could work from home tomorrow should the MTA go on strike.
She told me that since I have been working into the grave yard shift the past few days, there is nothing wrong with me taking a break.
Little did she know that the work I want to get done is to compensate for the inevitable break in the airplane and it doesn’t really have anything to do with the work itself… 8-O.
Also, I have the propensity to make the best use of resources… and this includes the brain of mine that have the predilection of doing its own thing without my informed consent. (As a result, let me make the best use of it before it wants to retire itself prematurely lol )
If the long term goal is nothing expedite-able and nothing I intend to expedite, at least, I have my short term expectation.
In less than 3 days, I will be busy finding way to kill time in the airplane on my flight home. I think I could move myself to get some more things done before I could legitimately put my brain at rest.
To end this lengthy ratological discussion… I just want to say… Let me go night night now, which is something I should have done two hours ago, and terminate my Kafka thing in the half awakening state.
Sometimes I need to give myself the leisure of dreaming about trying to keep myself awake instead of sleep talking… lol
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