The plaster walls are off white, the color that white gets when a last minute paint job has been slapped together to sell a house, or in this case a condominium. The dappled sunlight leaks in through the windows from over the trees, the windows barely bring in enough air in this too short spring, the one week period that Spring graces the District.
I look at my laptop, an aluminum piece of jewelry. It barely fits into a backpack but the AC adapter is tiny. I can only edit photographs for a couple of hours before it complains to me about being on reserve power.
I flip open the lid and connect to my wireless network. There’s a server, somewhere, but damned if I know where it is.
One of these days, I’m really going to have to purchase a color calibration system. Photos may be coming out just a little over saturated.
I adjust the equalizer to classic as Freddie Mercury hits one of his upper octaves and listen carefully as the changes subtly alter the performance over the music streaming to the home theater system. My bookmarks load, tab after tab, flickr, YouTube, Google Reader, and a host of other sites. I am assaulted by images and video and music and text.
I open up GameFAQS and read what strangers have written about Street Fighter IV. Then I watch some tournament play videos. I do a couple of searches and read up on what people have said about a couple of games that I’m interested in. I read my email in a different application. Then I read up on what my friends had for breakfast. I make a few comments to no one in particular, although I like to think that everyone at least listens a little bit.
I think nothing of it.