I was thinking earlier today (or possibly later last night) about how all the jobs I’ve had as an “adult” have been about helping people transform information from one format to another. Whether it’s teaching, where you transform it from like some kind of static nebulous format into the living brains of real people - or whether its doing website design, or something as annoying as data entry, which I have been doing a lot of lately. Or take my blog for example. It’s sort of like I wake up every day, figure out my electrical charge, and then stick my arms out - stuff flows in, stuff flows out. I don’t even really think about it most of the time. Like most of my blogging is completely absent-minded. I don’t really think about it. I instead think it. A fine distinction. But most of the people I know seem to think about their writing rather than thinking their writing. Or is it writing your thinking? I honestly can’t tell anymore. I’ve joked here and there before about how the internet is part of my brain at this point. And my brain is part of the internet. And I think that’s a very real true thing. Like the internet isn’t this vast nebulous thing outside of me, it’s something that’s just another series of networks and neighborhoods in my good old brain. I wonder if that means you are all in my brain. Probably. I’ve suspected as much for a while. Or maybe you are mr brain. Wow, this is getting rather abstract. I like it. I did waaaaaay too many hours of data entry tonight. That seems to really cook my melon in a very specific way. I don’t mind it anymore though. I just need to locate the system. The one that’s gonna make the data jump through me into the computer the easiest. And then it’s all just autopilot.