so i come into work today and there is this girl in the elevator writing things down on a little notepad. and she's there when i get on at 1, and she's there when i get off at 10. and so i go back to the elevator and attempt to talk to her, but of course there is no context and i don't have the suave sophistication to strike up a conversation with a total stranger, so that doesn't work.

i'm so intrigued by this. i did something similar in high school, where i would ride the subway and just jot down things about new yorkers (i wonder how they compare to berkeley students and faculty in terms of eclecticism), and of course there's the advice table (which i really ought to do again.)

i bet you thought this was a dream sequence when you started it.

at any rate, this certainly adds to the cinematic observational feel my life has had recently. maybe she is a metaphor for the chronicles of my life or something equally implausible. at the very least she is real -- people don't just do things like that out of convention -- and it restores a little bit of my faith in the future that people like that do exist.

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