Is it August 15 already? According to my computer, it is. And since my computer hasn’t risen up in rebellion against its fleshy masters (yet), I’m inclined to believe it. That means today marks my seventh year in San Francisco. This fact blows my mind a little. It doesn’t seem that long ago, but I guess that’s the whole mortality thing in a nutshell. Seven years ago today, my overlong car trip across the country, with my worldly possessions crammed into the back seat and trunk of a Nissan Sentra, came to an end. I had a couple hundred bucks to my name and the promise of a job working at an as-yet unnamed videogame website at Ziff-Davis — this, about two months after I had vowed to stop writing about games and so something more productive with my life. That vow obviously didn’t work out so well. Still, I continue to hold out hope that someday I’ll figure out how to be a worthwhile, contributing member of society.
For now, I feel like I should do something special to mark the occasion, like revisit the first restaurant I ate at once I’d arrived for good. But I saw a few weeks ago that the place closed down recently. That’s probably symbolic of something, but I have no idea what. So… I guess I’ll just keep plugging away at GSQ5, then.