There's no way I can complain about this without sounding somehow spoiled, ungrateful, stubborn, or some combination thereof, but fuck it: complain I must.

Elissa informs me yesterday--in the gentlest, most roundabout, most heavily explanation-laden way possible--that The Powers That Be feel I need to be down on campus more often in order to take a leadership role, start heading up the UX initiative on projects, and blah blah blah. I stop listening as soon as she says 'Four days a week,' because the specter of watching three hours of my day four days a week disappear to commuting sends me reeling. Twelve hours a week gone and wasted in a blink.

When people ask about my job, I invariably mention that I'm lucky--impossibly lucky (and that's truer now than I knew)--to be able to work mainly in the city, as fighting traffic or train schedules or other cranky commuters more than one day a week always brought out the worst in me. But I guess now I should prepare to live with that Worst Me, to try to pretend that I value the chance to scramble after some sort of promised career advancement more than I value not having to commute 90 miles each day.

Your money or your life, as they say. It's a choice I'd hoped not to have to make.

Double word score

Truth be told, I never beat Josh at Scrabble, much as I'd like to rewrite history and say I did. Despite whatever nine-letter words I might've pulled from the letters I drew and those already on the board, he'd always whip out some brilliant and/or obscure tactical move that would leave me in the dust.

But the winning wasn't so much the point (obviously, or I would've given up after the first try). The point was being in the warm and comfortably messy rooms of 2186 Fell Street with some combination of port, insta-bake chocolate chip cookies, and bad TV while the Scrabble competition happened. The point was also more port and more cookies when I realized the downward slide I was on as Josh plunked down three tiles, one of which was either a Z or an X, to create some Greek word on a double word score square.

If I looked, I'm sure I could find another willing Scrabble opponent in San Francisco now that Josh has disappeared to the other coast, but somehow I just don't think it'd be the same.