Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity. — Albert Einstein

Time moves fast and slow. The morning went fast, with my head deep in solving a string of technical problems. Lunch went horribly slow as my heart twisted with sadness. My knee jerk reaction is to say something or do something to cure it. Instead I’m putting the headphones on, putting my palm on my chest, and telling myself it’ll turn out alright.

Nothing is going to change today. Either there will be time to mend and patch, or there won’t, but it won’t be right now as much as part of me feels like it should be.

I don’t value that many things, which is to say, I don’t hold them dear. I’m not good with the things I do hold dear. Of course, nobody is, it’s just tough. Perhaps I’m too much of a dreamer, and put too much hope in the future. Which is of course ironic because I rarely live in the future. Hope. That’s what it is.

I have hope for love. I don’t mind that it doesn’t always seem practical. Despite my career resting on amazingly obscure technical bits, I regularly slide back and zoom out, and laugh at the complexity that we orchestrate for ourselves.

Yes, it’s amazingly critical and important that the exchange server went down over the weekend and it took everyone a while to notice. I understand all of the justifications, all of the reasoning, all of the constructs. But it’s sunny out there, and love is out there.

I’ve managed my own projects my entire life. I’ve almost always been a lead in the decision making process because I’m the one that understands it. This is a huge part of me.

But beauty can’t be captured by process.