Yesterday I met a woman for coffee. She is, as is true for all people, so much more than she appears from the outside. She is intelligent, funny, supremely capable, driven, and kind. She is so kind. And hiding somewhere is silliness that I look forward to seeing more of because her laugh is like cascading bells that turns heads. She really has the most wonderful disruptive laugh. It’s the kind that will make others smile in a room full of strangers.

 

After those stolen minutes for coffee, I returned to my work in a chair in a room that has known my behind for almost 13 years. This chair and I are well-acquainted. It’s too tall, too wide, and too deep. My feet don’t touch the floor so I have a stool to prop them on. It’s an upside-down garbage can. Beside my feet is a small heater. It’s on most of the time. Every 15 minutes, someone comes in to pepper me with questions. Mostly I have answers but the work in front of me on the screen (where there are deeper and constant questions whose answers are hiding in the data and worse, hiding in social constructs) is where the real problem solving happens. Either problem-solving interaction makes me both happy and exhausted. This is because I am plagued with doubt. I am doubtful that I can truly solve the deeper questions and I am keenly aware that my time here is limited.