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March 16, 2001

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ready, aim, horseshit!
I got to my job interview at 5th and cherry promptly at 9 this morning, headache from slides of march beer wine and vodka mixing be damned, the busride with sarah and grande drip a pleasant start to the day, at times like this seattle almost seems like a city. The director of the way to go program was late, so the receptionist sent me to "the library" where i was to wait. i sat among the crowded but orderly shelves of seattle strategic planning office (SPO) archives. i closed my eyes and meditated the way allen ginsberg taught us at brooklyn college in spring '93. i know you're not supposed to think of anything but breath but i did think about the day when i was lifeguarding at the long island marriott and they called me upstairs to lead an exercise break for hundreds at a computer associates conference. i felt sorry for them and their rectangular lives. i told myself i would never work inside. i lied. i led them in stretching and then taught them what allen had taught me about breathing. they were anxious for any deviation from the agenda. programmers, marketers, and other corporate team players breathed as one, following the breath through their noses, down their throats, and into the lungs where it branched out like the roots of a tree. just then someone reached into the library and turned off the light, having not seen me. i opened my eyes in the dark. how nice, i thought, but got up anyway and said, hello? i left the light off and waited standing reading a newspaper in the hall, where my interviewer was surprised to find me, not having been told I was waiting. there's something about windowless rooms full of government reports and getting lost in the bureaucratic shuffle that had me asking myself during the interview if I really wanted the job. i'd rather just breathe in the dark.