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McDude's Kind of Cool�Today is the tomorrow that we feared yesterday.� |
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� 2001-06-21 - 8:55 p.m. I am a great dancer. In my apartment with no garments on to inhibit my movement I gyrate to the quirky jingles in my head. Each motion of my arm or leg is done as if the movement created the music in my head. But only I know that the music in my head comes from the need to forget that, �Today is the tomorrow that we feared yesterday.� �Author Unknown. Chores that I wanted to postpone must be completed. Tasks I wanted to complete must be put off. When more sleep is the want of the moment, the water pores on my back. Code-change, download, upload, document, voice-mail, e-mail, timesheet, pseudo-code, flow-chart, project test plans, Boom, click, boom, click, drip, drip, drip. The Jazzy scat solo flows out, a smooth blues tune of do-wops, and scooby-dops flow from my tongue. The shower becomes a hip recording studio instead of that last monotonous requirement before the upcoming day. As I dress and prepare to depart the music continues. Locking my door and down the stairs this scat man is on fire. I am rocking on the drive to work while I stare at the other cars in traffic. But while I park my car the artist dies, it is time to put on my happy face. This job is no place for the blues. Programmer X exits the car while McDude stays and sleeps awaiting the journey home. McDude is not ready to handle such responsibilities as test plans. He just wants to have fun. He wants to search for Lightning bugs and play B-Ball. Programmer X will cover for him. We are thankful for programmer X. McDude.
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