{ 2007 03 29 }

how to spend a day as an architect

  1. Avoid going to your car to start your day. Check your email for the fourth time. Check your favorite websites. Remember that you haven’t put the latest episode of Cute with Chris on your iPod. Spend 10 minutes doing that. Change your shirt 3 times. If you’re a girl, change your panties 3 times.
  2. Kiss Your Husband Goodbye. Leave the apartment. Get to your car and realize you left your iPod in the apartment. Go back and retrieve it.
  3. Have a nice drive to the office. Listen to Kurt Andersen talk to brilliant artists. Wish that you were being interviewed by Kurt. Wish that you were Kurt. Imagine yourself having something pithy to say. Imagine that this pithy thing will change the life of a struggling artist out there, and that artist will go out and teach other artists. Imagine that you will leave a legacy. Observe the people walking around downtown to their offices. Think about how easy it would be to step on the accelerator, hitting a pedestrian in the crosswalk. Wonder if there would be a lot of satisfying blood like in the movies. When Kurt’s done, sing along to music.
  4. Walk from your car to your cubicle. As you close the car door behind you, feel the oppressive weight of the day hit you. This oppression is easy to imagine as you will likely be in an oppressive, concrete parking garage that leaks water into stagnant, oppressive puddles. The sound of your car door as it echos off the oppressive walls will be oppressive. In the elevator to your office, close your eyes thinking you might get 5 seconds of sleep and in that 5 seconds you will be Star Trek-like transported to a beach in Southern California with smooth, blonde lifeguards. This will not happen. When you get to your floor, pretend like you don’t hear the receptionist wishing you a good morning. Realize that’s rude, and wish her a good morning a little too late. Sit at your cubicle and look around. Look at the piles of drawings around you. Wish that the nighttime cleaning staff had accidentally set fire to your desk.
  5. Prepare to work. Turn on your computer. Check your email. Delete the architecture-related newsletters you received overnight, looking for something entertaining. Smile inwardly at the email from your mother that asks you to forward it to 10 other people and a Norwegian boy so that when the boy receives a mountain of email from strangers from around the world, he will know that he is loved. Check your favorite websites again reasoning that the 15 minutes it took you to drive from your home to the office is a very long time on the internets. Ernie could have updated in that time, and Ernie’s new post might be just the post that will make you laugh uproariously. When all work-avoidance is complete, start Autocad. Because it takes Autocad 10 minutes to boot-up, go to the restroom, avoiding eye-contact with co-workers.
  6. Work. Plug into your iPod. Dimension. Tag. Email co-workers to establish standards. Answer calls. Check your favorite sites again. Dimension. Tag. Go to the restroom again. Rub your head in frustration. Dimension. Tag. Obsess over your last blog post. Answer a comment on your last blog post. Dimension. Tag. Go to your favorite movie boards. Respond to a post. Dimension. Tag. It’s lunchtime!
  7. Order Lunch. Eat it while looking at Gizmodo, Defamer, your own blog, Boing Boing, a friend’s blog, a friend’s friend’s blog, a friend’s friend’s friend’s blog…looking for something to use in your own blog. At 1:10 shut down your browser and plug into your iPod again.
  8. Work. Move. Rotate. Copy. Go to the restroom. Check the kitchen for leftover goodies. Move. Rotate. Copy. Acknowledge your grumbling lower intestines telling you it’s time to go #2. Take the elevator down to the first floor where no co-workers can recognize your shoes beneath the stall door in the commode. Do your business. Hold your head in your hands and think, “If I could just sit here and sleep for five minutes. Really. Just five minutes is all I need. I’d feel less anxious if I could just get a tiny, itty-bit of shut-eye.” Go back to your cube, sit down, and sigh to yourself. Move. Rotate. Copy. Check the kitchen again for snacky-snacks. Move. Rotate. Copy. Stand up. Stretch. Turn around and look out the window at the beautiful day outside. Imagine being at the park, laying on the grass reading a book. Sit down. Move. Rotate. Copy. It’s 5:00! Check your favorite websites again. Pack up, and leave.
  9. Work Out. Watch Extra on the elliptical trainer making up the story because you don’t have the sound portion of the program as you are plugged into your iPod. Playing this guessing game is quite easy as the day’s entertainment news is identical to the entertainment news from the night before. However, it is still a game, and because of that it is still fun. Turn your gaze to the television tuned to ESPN. Shiver and go back to Extra. Wonder how Mark McGrath transformed so effortlessly from semi-rock star to plucked douche. Watch a muscled student 10 years younger than you do pull-ups. Watch his lats expand. Watch his face get red with effort. He’s looking back at you! Quick! Go back to the television. Watch the woman that looks like she’s wearing a diaper underneath sweats that might’ve looked right on Will Smith as Chris Gardner painting his son’s bedroom. Watch her bend down to adjust the weights on the quad machine. Wonder if you could take her in a fight. Shower and leave.
  10. Drive home. While driving don’t notice that your mind is wandering all over the place. When you get home, wonder what happened in the last 15 minutes.
  11. Kiss your husband hello.
  12. Watch TV or Write a blog post.
  13. Go to sleep.

Posted by alex on Thursday, March 29th, 2007, at 8:31pm, and filed under nonsense, architecture, personal.

Follow any responses to this entry with the RSS 2.0 feed.

You can post a comment, or trackback from your site.