I like the cage of the pouring rain. The world is beyond the barrier of the shower, behind the clouds and faint smudges of trees and fog.
I just spent an hour and a half on the phone with two geeks in Waterloo, fielding questions about static classes, virtual functions, design patterns, the works.
I didn't realize I knew that much about C++. I didn't think I knew anything at all, I was terrified for this interview, my stomach is still working out the knots I've tied it into.
You couldn't tell from my voice, though.
I taught them about extreme programming. Interesting, they said. We traded book reviews. I'm going to go pick up a couple.
Only one person on their team uses vi.
Fluid analysis, heh, now that sounds like science.
Hrmm.
Yesterday's panic is ebbing with the knowledge that the next couple of days are going to be manic. Nine o'clock tomorrow morning, I'm meeting with the "European Contingent" of Cognicase.
Today is full already, shopping for books, moving Dan's car for him since he's in Toronto, seeing Steven and having dinner with him and Latex Lady.
Tomorrow, an interview, a long-awaited viewing of Quills with kegboy, and an early bedtime for the madness already planned for Thursday.
I'm still waffling over decisions. Golden handcuffs versus mad scientist. I know which decision is most fun, and which is most responsible. I've got the social skills to be a good technical leader, but do I want to go there? Financially, it's most secure, but I'm not worried about money yet.
The question is, which will take me further? Following my dreams and staying wild and irresponsible and seeing where it takes me, or buckling down and concentrating on career and fleshing out my resume. The latter will make me rich, but which one will make me a nobel prize winner?
Or is that just an immature wish.
Sometimes it seems like every responsable decision that I make involves giving up a dream, or redefining it according to modern societal standards.
Sometimes I wonder if it's necessary.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm settling for happiness in slavery.
When I have to ask "can I handle working with Westmount types" and the only answer is "I'll always have my leisure time" then I know I haven't got the whole picture in my head.
And then I read some more of "Atlas Shrugged" and ask myself again, just how immature am I being?
I want to go far. I just don't know what direction to go in anymore.
But that's a good thing. It means I have choices.