My office is a desk in a lab. It's fenced in on three sides by filing cabinets, so my spot for idle gazing is a blank metal wall. My back is to a door and walkway, and I am convinced that every set of footsteps is for me. One of my officemates talks. And talks. My Lord, he has his own office in another building, why is he here, sorting out errors in his travel itinerary in a loud voice over the phone?
Everyone else is on a 9-5 schedule, which gives me a precious half hour at either end of the day to get 80% of my work done.
Every day I think: I need to go home and work so I can think.
Then I go home and think differently.
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