Work Saturday

Yes, it's Saturday, but I'm on the train to work. I actually considered driving today, since I want to go up to my house in the mountains tonight, and driving would mean I would have the option of leaving straight from the office. In the end I decided to get on the train because the walk would be de-stressing, and it would give me a chance to get out in the sunshine.

I don't really mind working on a Saturday when we're in crunch mode (at the moment we're trying to ship the next version of our product), but it does make it harder to balance my life. I find that when I work a 6-day week, I really need a 3-day weekend to fully recover, and instead I end up with a 1-day weekend. It's particularly tough this week because last weekend I taught a 2-day JavaScript class followed by a 1-day DHTML class (ugh). That was my choice, though, so I can't really complain too much. It just means that it's been a while since I've really had a day off.

Anyway, it's a lovely morning, and I'm glad I did walk to the train (and the Safeway). Every morning for the last week or so I've gotten up, turned on my computer to check the weather on Yahoo!, and then gotten dressed accordingly... or so I thought. I was thinking that 44...62 would actually mean that I didn't need a hat and gloves, and that I might not even need my scarf (though unless it's over 80, I always bring it with me anyway, just in case; I hate it when my neck gets cold). So far I've been wrong, and after twice shivering under the low-hanging clouds and bitter wind, I put my hat and gloves back in my bag.

This morning, however, 44...72 seems to mean 60...72, and no need for hat, gloves, scarf, or even fleece pullover. My arms are slightly goose-bumpy in a short-sleeved shirt, but with the fleece on I was overly warm. I'm hoping to leave it tied around my waist as I walk from the San Carlos station to the office.

We're just leaving the Atherton station, and I'm staring longingly out the window at the leafy green, country-lane-like streets. I love walking through Atherton and thinking about the Bed & Breakfast I hope to run someday. (Yes, I have a strange Martha Stewart streak in my computer geek bones.) Too bad the idyll only lasts until you cross Fifth Avenue (when you're traveling northbound). I've found that southbound the transition from English suburb to Peninsula suburb is less harsh; I like walking from Atherton down to Palo Alto.

Well, enough day dreaming about English countrysides. My stop is next, and it's time to start fixing some bugs.

Training

It's been a while since I've written in my "regular" blog (i.e., this one, rather than one of the other journal-y areas on my site), and I seem to be babbling endlessly at Al these days about random things that pop into my head, so now seemed to be a good time to give him a break and just write it all down.

I'm on the train at the moment. I've been taking the train to work for the past couple months, and I can say that I'm a much happier person for it. It all started, I think, when my sister and I were having a conversation about how I'd exceeded the mileage limit on my currently-leased vehicle, partly from driving to and from my house (200 miles away), and partly from driving to work from Al's house. She said, "oh, I thought you took the train to work." It made me think: "why *don't* I take the train to work?" I often commute by bike in the summer, but the rest of the year, I drive.

So I checked the train schedules, and the next day I got up early (I used to wake up between 9 and 9:30) and took the 9:23am train to work. I walked the mile or so from the San Carlos station from the office, and I felt great! Within a week, Al remarked about how much happier I seemed. It turns out that I really needed some quiet time and fresh air in the mornings before I had to interact with people, and taking the train gave me an opportunity to get it. (It also meant that I was going to bed earlier, which meant that I couldn't turn on my laptop when I got home if I wanted to spend any time with Al before hitting the sack. Quiet time in morning + exercise + quality time with loved one at night + more sleep = happy Lori.)

Within a week I was getting up even earlier, to catch the 8:38am train. Next I worked out how to jump off the 8:38 in Atherton, walk to the allergists' office, get my cat shot, and get back to the station in time to catch the 9:23am train as it came through. It wasn't long before I become a slave to the train schedules, craftily trying to figure out whether if I take the 8:22 train, I'll have time to get off in Palo Alto to visit the Whole Foods Market and get back to the station for the 8:38. (The answer, I've found, depends on whether I'm waited on right away at the muffin counter, whether they have the drinkable yogurt I want in easy reach, and whether there's a line at the checkout. I've also found, however, that if I miss the 8:38 in Palo Alto, I have time to walk to Menlo Park or even Atherton before the next train comes through.)

I am totally loving the time to myself in the mornings. On the train I work, read, or just stare out the window. During the walking portion, I listen to CDs. At first I listened to Harry Potter books, or my recording of the A&E version of Pride & Prejudice. When I misplaced Harry Potter #2 and couldn't go through the books in order again, I switched to my favorite genre of classical music: Rennaisance dance. I can't tell you how meditative a walk can be when you're listening to Lluís Del Milà Fantasies, Pavanes & Gallardes, or how energizing and relaxing (at the same time!) I find The Baltimore Consort's Le Rocque and Roll. (It has too much singing for me to listen to in the office or while reading, so it was languishing in my CD holder. Who knew its perfect partner would be a morning walk to work?)

Tomorrow is a work Saturday, and I already have a plan. I'll be taking the 9:23 from San Antonio to San Carlos in the morning, and the 6:45 train back from San Carlos to San Antonio at night. And then I'm going to drive the 200 miles to my house.