“Many creative writers keep journals; the sociologist’s need for systematic reflection demands it.” -C. Wright Mills

“Going to work” for the last two days has been outstandingly productive. I haven’t gotten loads done, but it’s steady, useful progress. (Skipping today to register for day care and to make a campus visit.) The hours of work I put into setting up my computers and learning LaTeX and pgfSweave and latex-suite and Awesome WM and other things is really paying off. My ability to work remotely is phenomenal and my productivity is rising. It’s been a long slow start, but I’m ready to drive it all home. (And the subject matter is becoming much more interesting again, but more on that later.)

Yesterday, though, I had a realization. I was chatting with Babo about my delightful circumstances. Somewhere in the flow of text, Babo asked, “You drove?!” “Yep. It’s the only way to carry my gear and deal with street cleaning.” Then I realized that I’m doing the forbidden and impossible. I, who have never owned a car before and have always cycled to work, am driving to work…in NYC! Minor, but mind-blowing.