Through the rain, with my black cap on and an old briefcase in my hand, I trudged to the post office; I placed a manilla envelope, the culmination of several months of work, into the hands of the US postal service; now I wait to hear whether I am accepted into the UW Professional Master's Program. Eriko is now an aunt, twice-over, with the birth of Sakura -- her brother's daughter. At Isilon, I am now responsible for assigning, prioritizing, and following up on tasks/bugs for the "system" team.
January 2003 Archives
As the end of January approaches, so does the deadline for my grad school application. I have spent most of today revising, reading, revising, sending to my friend Kris for help, revising, reading... ;P I officially applied on Friday, so I want to mail the materials out on Monday. Also, two more months until I see Eriko. X)
I can only think of one thing that could make my Friday night better than it is now. That is, of course, the beautiful woman in the picture hanging on the left-side of my monitor. Looking beautiful, she is. Eriko has been busy lately. Driving lessons, child-minding lessons, work... singing. Meanwhile, I've been doing a little too much goofing off. I had some good visits with Alex the last two nights, but that detracts from what I really want to be doing. Honing my computer skills, my math skills, my Japanese skills, my reading skills. He tells me that he helps me hone my social skills. Which he probably does. ;P Nontheless, I have many things I wish to do and its really time to get crackin`. To luck, or fate, or the spirit of the sky -- however my mind chooses to refer to you -- thank you for giving me all I could ever ask for.
Well, I am enjoying myself. My room is still cluttered, there are still extraneous items strewn around the apartment, my desk is still a mess... But Bailey sleeps on the corner of my bed, and I can hear David muttering at to his computer. I gaze fondly at my picture of Eriko; having just sent her an email I wonder what she is doing. I bought a phone card online yesterday, so if my luck holds up, I will call her Thursday morning.
Rain, clouds, cold. On perhaps at the start of any other year, I might take such things to be a bad omen. Not this one. As my father likes to say, "I'm on my way." As I like to say, "I'm a lucky guy."