Microserfs

SUNDAY

My sense of time perception has gone all screwy. Sundays always do that to me. One day is so much like every other day here, and yet every day is somehow different. I designed a little program that I click into every time I get an interruption — like a phone call or someone asks me a question — or I have to change a tape in my Walkman. My average time between interruptions is 12.5 minutes. Perhaps this is part of my time schism.

I mentioned these interruptions to Todd who said, “I’m still doing 18-hour days like up at Microsoft, except instead of doing just one thing, I’m doing a hundred different things — my job is so much better. More diversity. It’s the diversity of interruptions … time becomes initiative driven’ as opposed to passive.”

He then added that in Christian eschatology (“the study of the Last Things”) it is always made very clear that time and the world both end simultaneously, that there is no real difference between the two.

Then he panicked, worrying that he was doomed to turn into his parents, and roared off to the gym. He’s doing upper body today. He alternates upper and lower body. He never sleeps. That’s how he names his days: Upperbodyday; Lowerbodyday; Absday; Latsday … Sometimes I admire his single-minded drive to achieve muscular perfection, and sometimes I think he’s a freak.

I read about fishermen off the Gulf Coast whose net, dragging the ocean floor, snagged a sunken galleon, and when the net was raised, a shower of coins fell on the ship’s deck. Talk about a story to appeal to us here in the Valley!

Sent out my Christmas cards today — I went to McDonald’s and got a stack of “JOIN THE FAMILY” job application forms and filled them out for everybody. The only remotely personal question the form asks is: Sports? Activities?

Here’s what I wrote for everybody: “Abe/Susan/Bug/Michael/etc … greatly enjoys repetitive tasks.”

“Geek party” night: it’s kind of like if we were in Hollywood and going to an “industry party.” That guy Susan met from General Magic had a party up at his place in the Los Altos Hills. All day at the office Susan and Karla talked about what they’re going to … wear. It was really un-Karla, but I’m glad she’s getting into her body and taking pride in it.

Susan’s on the prowl, so she wants to look sexy, techie, “fun,” and serious all at once. Good luck. She complains to Karla that “I’ve got period boobs … they feel like they’re going to go on a lactating spree momentarily.” She’s so tell-it-like-it-is, but Susan …

Karla said, “Well, that could work to your advantage if you wear that Betsy Johnson dress.”

“Excellent idea!” Susan was motivated.

At geek parties, you can sort corporate drones from start-up drones by dress and conversation. Karla and I stood next to two guys who work on the Newton project at Apple. They talked with unflagging enthusiasm about frequent flyer miles for about 45 minutes. They had a purchasable Valley hip. One guy had the mandatory LA Eyeworks glasses and a nutty orange vest worn over baggy jeans. The other guy had Armani glasses and a full Calvin Klein ensemble, but not a matching ensemble, mind you—“thrown together” in “that expensive way.” You can’t help but be conscious here of how much everything costs, and where it comes from.

Newton Guy One: I’m trying to make United Premiere Executive 100K. Are you 100K yet?

NG 2: Oh, yeah, right after Hanover this fall. And you’ll never believe this — I was late for a flight the other day, and when the woman at the United counter pulled up my record, I looked at the monitor and my name was surrounded by DOLLAR SIGNS. How subtextual.

NG 1: Wow, great! (Obviously genuinely impressed) I think I might make it if they let me fly United to Japan the next two times. Fucking Apple Travel. I now have frequent flyer miles on Alitalia, Northwest, JAL, Lufthansa, USAir, Continental, American, and British Air. I wish we flew Virgin Air … that would be the coolest.

NG 2:1 like the toiletries case from British Air.

NG 1: They used to be cooler … all the stuff used to be from the Body Shop. But Virgin Air rules because you get your own video game monitor and you can play SEGA Games with other passengers.

NG 2: All over the plane? Or just business class?

NG 1: I don’t know. Business class only, I think. I guess it would be cooler if you could play with the 13-year old kids back in coach … SEGA should send group testers on flights and do market research that way! (Titters.)

Karla and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes, but were impressed. APPLE! NEWTON! JAL FIRST CLASS! I don’t have frequent flyer miles on any airline.

Loser.

MONDAY

Anatole’s Lexus has a vertical slot in its dashboard. It’s a coffee cup holder that pops out and does this flip-flip-flip origami thing—whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—and becomes horizontal.

Karla and I went out around sunset and had coffees and sat in the car. This was the highlight of the day, so you can imagine how dull the day was.

Stocking stuffers: I bought these red “panic buttons” at Weird Stuff, the computer surplus store across from Fry’s on Kern Street in Sunnyvale. It’s a fake IBM button with adhesive tape on the back that you’re supposed to tape on to your board and push whenever you’re feeling “wacky.”

I felt really sad for the panic buttons, because panic seems like such an outdated, corny reaction to all of the change in the world. I mean if you have to be negative, there’s a reasonable enough menu of options available — disengagement — atomization — torpor — but panic? Corrmrny.

I mentioned to Abe about my lessons in shiatsu and the weird relationship people in tech firms can have with their bodies. He replied:

I know what you mean about bodeis. At Microsoft you pretend bodies dont’ exist … BRAINS are what matter. Vou’re right, at Microsoft bodies get down played to near invisibilty with unsensual Tommy Hilfiger geekwear, or are genericized with items form the GRP so that employees morph themelfves into those international symbols for MAN and WOMAN you see at airports.

Susan got a job offer from General Magic — that guy she chatted up at the Halloween party recommended her — and Todd got a job offer from Spectrum HoloByte. At first I couldn’t imagine why — then he told us that someone at the gym must have recommended him. It’s occupational cannibalism here. Both offers are tempting. But Susan’s got too much money stoked into the Oop! fire to leave, and Todd’s simply too into it. But it’s nice to know that if Oop! flushes the toilet, there’s a Plan B ready.

Oop! isn’t about work. It’s about all of us staying together.

TUESDAY

We ate lunch in Chinatown up in SF only today, and there were these paper birds strung from the ceiling and this little kid who wanted to touch the birds and his father lifted him up to touch them. I didn’t realize, but I was staring at the whole thing the whole time, and zoned out of the conversation, and then I realized Karla was watching me.