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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2020-04-19 13:00:04 -07:00
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writing/post-self/qoheleth/Carter/004.md
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@ -35,29 +35,31 @@ Carter had supposed that this would be innocuous enough, but Sanders had taken t
In both cases, she reiterated that this would only be a temporary investigation. If it turned up any useful information, then they would have that conversation again in the near future. If it didn't, oh well. Everyone would cohere once more. There was comfort in the words, she hoped, but all the same, Carter wasn't sure of their efficacy.
She had had an idea. A hunch. One she thought worth investigating. That's what one did in science, right? Have ideas.
She had had an idea. A hunch. One she thought worth investigating. That's what one did in science, right? Have ideas. Investigate. Be open to being proven wrong.
Sanders, however, had an ideal.
Or so Carter assumed. When assessing the team's standing on the issue, she had used the usual three point scale. For, neutral, against. What she hadn't asked was how many fucks each of them gave. There were, after all, two parts to making a decision. Which way you vote, and how much you cared about it.
Carter could easily estimate Sanders giving ten out of ten fucks against this current plan of exploration, while in fact, until this afternoon, she would only likely have given five or six fucks.
Carter could easily estimate Sanders giving ten out of ten fucks against this current plan of exploration, while in fact, until this afternoon, she would have likely given five or six fucks.
That question hadn't been asked, though. She couldn't make her mind whether she wished she had asked or was glad she hadn't.
This afternoon, with the determination to learn more for the project and the sense that she was on the right path significantly had bumped the number of fucks she gave. And there was the hope of proving Sanders wrong. No small amount of competition within academia.
This afternoon, with the determination to learn more for the sake of the project (so she promised herself) and the sense that she was on the right path had significantly bumped the number of fucks she gave. And there was the hope of proving Sanders wrong. No small amount of competition within academia.
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The play was some contemporary work. The Short Trip, the site informed her, chronicled an indecisive youth taking a trip away from family, purportedly to visit a bunch of friends for three days. The real goal of the trip was to visit his long-distance partner, but in the setting of a party, with guests, known and unknown, weaving their way through the scene.
The play was some contemporary work.
This much she learned as she made her way southwest. Carter had to duck out of work earlier than usual to make it over to the theater on time. She had actually to travel past RJ in the UCH, borne along the yowling Victoria line to Soho. Glad she left early, too. She needed to wait for three trains to pass before she was able to squeeze aboard one.
The Short Trip, the ticket site informed her, chronicled an indecisive youth taking a trip away from family, purportedly to visit a bunch of friends for three days, the real goal of the trip being to visit his long-distance partner, but in the setting of a party, with guests, known and unknown, weaving their way through the scene.
The train vomited her out into Oxford Circus and left her spinning. Looking, looking for the right exit to the tube station, comparing directions on her phone. Each was helpfully lit up with a thin, translucent display overlaid above the older signage in painted tile. Both bore the unerring curves of Helvetica, perpetual winner of the font wars.
This much she learned as she made her way south. Carter had to duck out of work earlier than usual to make it over to the theater on time. She had actually to travel past RJ in the UMC, borne along the yowling Victoria line to Soho. Glad she left early, too. She needed to wait for three trains to pass before she was able to squeeze aboard one.
The train vomited her out into Oxford Circus and left her spinning. Looking, looking for the right exit to the tube station, comparing directions on her phone. Each was helpfully lit up with a thin, translucent display overlaid above the older signage in painted tile. Both bore the unerring curves of Helvetica, perpetual winner of the font wars. Neither meant anything to her.
Easy enough to find the theater by following the crowds. Her identity --- and thus her ticket --- was proved by a touch from her contacts, a grip around a simple bar in front of the theater. The bar flipped around to provide its other end to the next customer, the end she had touched getting a quick sanitizing so that everyone got a surface.
Carter was surprised by just how much she enjoyed the play, then chagrined at her surprise. She had decided not to approach cast or crew beforehand. A fact that initially worried her, suspecting she would spend the entirety of the play thinking about what to say. She wound up getting engrossed in the performance all the same.
Carter was first surprised by just how much she enjoyed the play, then chagrined at her surprise. She had decided not to approach cast or crew beforehand, a fact that initially worried her, suspecting she would spend the entirety of the play thinking of what to say. She wound up engrossed in the performance all the same.
Lying to parents. Moving through the party. The awkwardness of meeting for the first time. The cast nailed it. She'd had her own long-distance fling while an undergrad, and she knew that feeling well. *Meet at a public space where you know people,* mom had even cautioned. *Like a party. Just in case.*