115 Cedar Street
Where we lay our scene. It has been more than three months since I've blogged, owing to a prohibitively busy schedule and the campaign's "no blogging" policy.
I'm sitting at a "Caribou Coffee" in Avon, Ohio, enjoying the rather abrupt holiday atmosphere. The last time I luxuriated at a coffee place was mid-summer, without a reindeer or tinsel in sight. I appreciate the fact that it's not a Starbuck's, but at the same time bemoan the telltale signs of a coffee franchise.
Emerging from the campaign feels like being deposited by a time machine into new circumstances and surroundings, like the steam escaping a pressure-cooker and a vise grip being relaxed. I feel like I've hit culture shock in a new county, and am slowly re-gaining my bearings.
I can hardly identify with three-dimensional space, after having spent interminable days and weeks perched at my desk, in front of a computer screen, looking up only to greet visitors or field questions from interns and volunteers. I don't know what to do with unstructured time. I can't contemplate the possibility of getting a haircut, seeing a movie, or even having the decision-making capability to do so. I can hardly identify with having control over my own schedule without conference calls every 12 hours for three months straight.
I'm sitting at a "Caribou Coffee" in Avon, Ohio, enjoying the rather abrupt holiday atmosphere. The last time I luxuriated at a coffee place was mid-summer, without a reindeer or tinsel in sight. I appreciate the fact that it's not a Starbuck's, but at the same time bemoan the telltale signs of a coffee franchise.
Emerging from the campaign feels like being deposited by a time machine into new circumstances and surroundings, like the steam escaping a pressure-cooker and a vise grip being relaxed. I feel like I've hit culture shock in a new county, and am slowly re-gaining my bearings.
I can hardly identify with three-dimensional space, after having spent interminable days and weeks perched at my desk, in front of a computer screen, looking up only to greet visitors or field questions from interns and volunteers. I don't know what to do with unstructured time. I can't contemplate the possibility of getting a haircut, seeing a movie, or even having the decision-making capability to do so. I can hardly identify with having control over my own schedule without conference calls every 12 hours for three months straight.
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