Auspicious mornings heave into view when my eyes refuse to stay closed and the clock refuses to read nine am for entire minutes.
This morning greeted me with job postings in my mailbox that actually have words that coincide with my resum�, and I had all the time in the world to sit and compose charming letters of intent and send my CV in different directions.
First morning chats with two of my favourite people, Cfoo who's birthday's coming up on Friday, and Larry, who had entire mouthfulls of interesting ideas with a distinct technological bent.
I let my brain fly, just like last night, and Mozart in the background provided for the perfect lubricant.
I put Larry and his armfuls of information on hold to hear from my headhunter, who had yet another possibility, a slightly less interesting one, but an option nonetheless.
I coached her through the difference between intrusion work and PKI work and then explained how it is that I've somehow done both.
I leaned back afterwards, enjoying the smooth running in my head, something that comes difficult some days, amidst the social hubbub and bustle, amidst singing practice and climbing and trying to see all my favourite people.
Last night, my brain hit the same rails, sitting around a stark dark table for the first time in years, dice in hand, papers scattered, gamemaster filling the air with imagery.
From the moment his words came pouring from his mouth, all eloquence and danger, pieces of my imagination that have been dormant too long were up and dancing with the kilo of cheesies strewn along the table.
Characters were drawn up, Cthulhu-shaped shivers were quivered.
Large words flew in all directions, smiles stretched into ideas, eyes glistening.
Mr. Pyke sitting to my right, brimming with brilliance of his own, almost tangible.
This weekend was contact and warmth and running, I hurt my shoulder climbing and we're taking tonight off but the 5.8 from last week is still a small victory against my chalk-stained skin.
Sunday evening we filled Liyia's feng shui'ed living room and played rounds of a game that had our hearts racing when we played it in France. Suddenly the crowd of non-gamers were role playing in the simplest form, and somehow no one looked bored.
And the food was delicious, the gingerbread house demolished violently.
And this afternoon and evening, I had wanted to race out to hug Ford and Fordlet so fiercely, but my courage has locked me into preparations for tomorrow's interview.
Ah yes, did I forget to mention?
The headhunter called back, again, and the interview possibility that I was all excited about from last week -- is first thing tomorrow morning.
Tonight is filled with reading, picking up my car from the garage where too many wires need replacing, a new curry from the curry book, yogourt and green cardamom pods, chicken juice running down my arm from the skinning.
This week has been filled with so many shining faces, so many thoughts exchanged.
Some nights when it gets especially cold, it is those thoughts and their sheer fervour that keep my heart beating.