Transit strikes are fantastic. Currently, I'm writing this from outside my office hallway due to the fact that the four individuals with keys (I am not one of these four) have decided to not show up for work. Luckily, I can still snag a wireless signal, as well as have access to an outlet. So here I am, sitting on plush carpet, tapping away, while people in shiny green suits make deals with the devil.

Back to the issue of the transit strike. I think it's great. Yes, it is an inconvenience to millions of people. Yes, the biggest transportation system in the world is shut down, ruining people's holiday shopping. Yes, cabs have hiked up their prices, and the sidewalks are jammed with people.

However, the lack of cars in the streets due to the 4-rider requirement, makes this city amazing. The streets themselves, are totally empty. One can look up and down the avenues, and see almost all the way to downtown. And it's quiet. So quiet, you can hear the steam rushing below the streets. Instead of cars there are bikes weaving up and down the blocks. Right now, if I could have anything, it would be a bike to just weave in and out through pedestrians. Even in the cold, this would be amazing.

I ended up talking to someone from Transportation Alternatives about what was happening on my walk over. Chris, was handing out pamphlets, maps, and other assorted literature showing what NY could be like if less people drove, and more walked, biked, or took public transportation. Right now, I would definitely go for something like that. The quiet is amazing. One can't even fathom the amount of noise pollution that exists until one gets rid of the cars.

Tonight, I'm going to walk downtown to look at an apartment. Even though it would be convenient to have the subway take me there, I think the walk will make it more of an adventure.

Exhausted.

I think that is a good word to describe the way I have been feeling and acting these past few days. It seems like all the energies in every sphere of my life is tapped right now and I'm running on empty. Mentally, I'm drained from Saturday. Physically, every step I take is agony due to a lack of stretching on Sunday. Emotionally....well, when your both physically and mentally sapped, emotions can only take you so far, even if they usually take precedence in your life. To live the majority of your life where they take the lead, and then to have their support units taken away (mental and physical loss) it's like having your legs knocked out from under you.

This is where I am right now. Perhaps if I get some sleep it could help. I should be sleeping more, especially when my reserves are drained. Except I can't. I'm at the point of exhaustion where systems stop functioning the way they are supposed to, such as when your drained and your body responds to by conking out. I could suck down four fingers of scotch, to see if that would numb me enough to get past the survival sensors, but I don't think that this is the way to go right now. Its getting to the point where when I do drink, I'm doing it to forget. And that's wrong. It's not supposed to be this way. It's supposed to help me remember, to celebrate.

Except I'm not sure what there is to celebrate right now. I guess being finished with the LSATs is an accomplishment. However, I don't see as such right now. It's more like jumping through the first of many hoops that lead down that path. I started my work full-time today. That could be considered a turning point. A member of the work-force. One of the millions who no longer live to learn, but live to produce and consume. It's a sad thought. I can't say that focus of my existence right now is to develop and focus purely on the mind in a completely selfish way. I don't feel that fire has been extinguished yet. The torch still is smoldering. And I miss the burn that comes with it.

Previously, I spoke of forgetting things. Well, I forgot my notebook in DC. That collection of pages has contained every random thought, fact, quote, list, idea, revelation, direction, sketch, and half-assed wish that I have assembled since moving back to Ramsey. It would have done wonders to have had that last night, and especially today. Luckily, Adam thinks he knows where it is in his living room and can overnight it to me. There is something about putting your pen to paper that lets you view your experiences with new air in your lungs.

I've been searching for a suitable replacement that can take it's place until I get that all-important collection of scribbles back. Digging through a desk-drawer I haven't cleaned out in about four years, I discovered my first-generation thought-pad, i.e. the 60 sheet 3 x 5 inch memo book I carried around in my back pocket for most of freshmen year. Its missing its cover and is frayed, bent and ...looks like chewed at, but still serviceable. It's amazing how much characteristics of oneself still hold true even after four years of continual self change. I may post some of the entries later on, for posterity's sake, especially the poems. I don't know if they are as painful as a Vogon's, but they're still pretty bad.