It is not inertia alone... (Rilke)
The patterns of alienation and ethnography that mistake themselves for progress appeared today, slow and simple like the dropping temperature of late. A new place and the oft repeated phrase of going out and making friends, widening the pre-existing circles we find ourselves surrounded by. Much like the rings left by discarded cups, we can only guess the circumstances of the fading stains. The new person dynamic, the evolving hierarchies of favor and fortune is enough to ensure I will spend most Fridays in my own company. I seem to be the one that is forever unaware of time zones, National Holidays and the ilk. I suppose unaware isn't the right word, unimpressed would be more accurate. Observe and report, kvetch and retort.
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