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September 11, 2017

Don't Look Down

I catch the BART into work. My Clipper card is in my wallet, and it still has about $25 on it. Like...I've not been to Oakland in a while. It's been a couple of months, I think. Not sure when the last time I was here was.

Somehow, I have a bike in Denver, and a bike in Los Angeles, but no bike in Oakland. So, I take BART. And, I walk into the Kaiser building, and I'm not sure what floor I'm supposed to be on. Like, I think it's 7. It's hard ot say for sure. I push 7, and it's the right floor, and my card works. And, I walk down to the office I normally sit in, looking out over Lake Merritt. Like, you sort of get the feeling that, at some point, someone's going to pinch you and you're going to wake up. But the dream keeps going. On and on.

Where is Cindy? Where is Natalie? Where is John? Sapna? Pallab.

Like, I'm just a pawn in this game. A very small player with a bit role. This gig will not go on forever. It can't.

At lunch, Nassir and I walk down to a little Mexican restaurant. Nassir is a good guy, even if he is canadian.

All day, at work, you're seeing people, and a logical question is "where were you this weekend?" Because, we all commute every week. And, if you could fly anywhere on earth for the weekend, then why in God's name would you go home?

Pallab was in NYC. Asok was in Chicago. John was in Jacksonville. Sapna didn't come in. She's taking PTO in Tahoe. Rode her bike around Lake Tahoe last yesterday, apparently.

I fly out here, and leave all of my motorcycle gear on my bike at Denver in short term parking. Only once I get on the plane does it occur to me that I don't have a jacket now. And I'm headed to San Francisco, which Mark Twain once said "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco".

But, the weather isn't cold, so I'm ok there. It is raining. And, I wonder why I don't have my umbrella.

John has finally talked me into staying at the YMCA. Like, I don't really care. It's cheap. I'm not proud. What the hell do I care? So, I'm staying at the YMCA Hotel in Berkeley. You have to email them for a reservation. But, no more Marriot Downtown Oakland for $150 a night. Now, I'm staying at the YMCA for $50 a night. Wooohoo!

At some point, I run into Asok.

"Asok, I left a motorcycle at the airport in Los Angeles. Are we going to be back in LA?"

"I dunno. I think that we are done with the co-location part. It seems that maybe now we will be in Oakland...."

Like...this dream doesn't end, but it's not exactly stabled, predictable, or straight-forward.

So, I'll have to fly down to Los Angeles, and get the KTM. Ideally, I'll ride it back to Denver. But, more realistically, I'll just roll it up to San Francisco.

Honestly, I dont' really know what I'll do with it. LIke..every day is like a dream.

After work, I take the BART up to the Downtown Berkeley station, and go check in at the YMCA hotel, and John's urging.

Like, he's always sort of whispered that the YMCA is up here,and it's the chepaest place to stay, and the bathroom is down the hall, and who gives a fuck really?

Like...I've got a lot of problems. Money's not one of them. But, sure. There's no point in handing my $$$ to Marriott, when I could be saving it for my trip to Tierra Del Fuego.

The bring me my pizza at Jupiter. It's a Eutropia pizza? Like...this is where I used ot eat when I stayed in Berkeley. It's one of my hang outs.

I can't say how happy I am with the way my career ended up. Like, instead of bending over and licking the corporate boot, kissing ass to the grave, I tossed certainty aside, took an enormous gamble, that paid off in spades. Now, I have more money than I know what to do with. Like...literally, I can't figure out what to do with all of the cash, and I'm now buying bitcoins.

And, I find myself, possibly, in Oakland for the rest of the year. And I'm OK with that.

Like...I'll need to find a place to park a KTM or an Africa Twin.

My greatest fear at this point is that my contract will be extended. I think it's up at 12/31/2017. And, if they extend me, then it means that I can't go to Tierra Del Fuego in 2018. :(

Like, after spending my life bouncing across the USA like a ping pong ball in a dryer, I'm so happy to be working in California that there aren't words. I finally really got a chance to work in Los Angeles, and get to know the LA basin somewhat. Now, I'm working in the bay area again. And, I'm in Oakland, but I'm OK with this.

Like...I've worked in SF plenty of times. I'm east bay, but I can hop on bart and be in the city in no time.

I certainly don't need a bike out here (in the bay area), but only I think I migh tlike to have one here, if I could only find a place to park it. Like...I could easily just see myself staying out here. Riding my bike up and down the coast, like saragasso weeds on the tide.

Posted by Rob Kiser on September 11, 2017 at 9:14 PM


I'm just a random person that came across your blog when I was searching for 'peenie wallie' to see if people really call roly-polys that! since then I've been reading it because your life is interesting to me in an internet voyeuristic way. anyway. just wanted to drop a line and say if you're having a too much money problem, you could always give me some. I work in a bookstore and it doesn't really pay the bills, you know?

Posted by: julia on September 15, 2017 at 10:50 AM

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