NaBloPoMo, redux

Yes, ladies and gents, it’s that time of year again – the time when some folks take up the challenge of National Novel Writing Month, and some folks just try and friggin post on their dusty old blog every day for 30 days in a row. I tried this last year only to be undone by a wandering mind which led to a missed post mid-month. We’ll see if it goes better this time.

Certainly, I have plenty of fodder right now: I just moved. My first day at my new job was today. So there’s plenty of new things to process. I can’t promise they’ll all be fascinating, but … I can promise 29 more insights into my quotidian!

Notable fact for today – I am the proud possessor of an A Permit. I popped into Parking Services this morning promptly at 8am (7am Central, and yes, I know, I have to stop making the conversion, it’s a morale killer) and I popped out 3 minutes later with the gold medal of all parking tags, the A Permit. To describe how this felt for a townie who became an undergraduate who went back to do a grad degree … I can’t tell you. The mystique. The sense of accomplishment. The expansive feeling of possibility and freedom – I CAN PARK ANYWHERE I CAN FIND A SPACE* (* except the ones labelled, Reserved. They’ll still tow my ass right out of those).

So take that, Thomas Wolfe. You CAN Go Home Again and what’s more, You Can Go Home Again And Park Like A Rock Star If You Can Find A Rock Star Space Otherwise You Can Just Park Somewhere And Then Go In To Your Cubicle. Now that’s a catchy title.