Sudoku? Ummm...

Okay. I admit it. I'm scared of Sudoku. That's right. All those numbers in boxes. 3 x 3 boxes inside of 3 x 3 boxes. There's something too methodical about it. Too symmetrical. I haven't tried it. But like my friends say, I don't need to try cocaine to know that it's bad for me. Okay, I don't really have friends that talk like that, but... Don't tell me you haven't seen what it does to people. On any given morning, on my Metro ride into work, there are no less than 5 Sudoku zombies, racking their brains trying to figure out if that box should have a "3" or "4". Really? Does it matter? Apparently so.

And some people are doing it in pen. The girl sitting next to me on the Metro did -- in her Big Book of Sudoku. Now that's just showing off. I was going to take a picture of her doing it in pen to show you that I wasn't exaggerating, but then I thought twice about it. Stranger. Camera. Asking to take a picture of you "doing Sudoku". Definitely creepy.

I suppose when it comes down to it, maybe I'm afraid I'll like it. A lot. And the last thing I need is another addiction. Between playing No Limit Hold 'em, watching episodes of Lost and eating Coldstone ice cream, the last thing I need is another addiction. God knows I have enough.

One of these days, I'm sure I'll break down, and try to tackle one of those puzzles with Zoolander-like skill ("Wait. The files are IN the computer???"), one of these days...when I have an hour (or five) to kill. But I'm not holding my breath. Busy seems to be the order of the day. And an Xbox 360 is definitely in my sights, now that it seems the PS3 won't be out until 2007. Once I buy the Xbox, you'll never see me again. That's only a slight exaggeration.

Finish Line

Tonight finds me kicking back on my bench outside, smoking a celebratory Opus X and enjoying the beautiful evening weather. After over a month of 14-18 hour days, our first meeting is finally in the books, literally. It was extremely well-received, which will make our next month considerably lighter, although I'm not holding my breath. Work always seems to come out of the pores of our office.

It was a long month to say the least, and I am beginning to realize that a banker's life is not for the married. Or a lawyer's life for that matter. There's simply not enough time in the day. And that's not really what I want to have written on my tombstone. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

I've got a million errands to run, and so I suspect that much of the day tomorrow will be spent doing them. It feels good this cool evening though. Good to be sitting here, and not thinking about how to explain the next big legal management consulting insight. Not checking e-mail. It feels quiet. And though I have a million thoughts to keep me company, I'm not indulging them right now. For now, it's me, a cigar, a drink, and a heaping tablespoon of everything feeling just about right.