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I’ve been reading more fiction. I’m incredibly lucky that the San Francisco public library, just minutes away on foot, has all the books I’d ever want to read. We have dozens of books at a time. In times like these, I’m not interested in productivity or self help (never was, but they’re increasing distasteful right now. Productivity? In these times??)

I’m interested in stories about humans and societies and hopes and dreams and fears. Love and betrayal and murder and everything. It’s a scary thought that even as careless people rampage about, I wonder if they’ve ever had a moment of care and tenderness, of the sort you feel so much of if you read a lot of fiction.

Even though I spend most of my day on a computer, I want to stop and be thankful for all of the natural beauty around me. We took a long walk from the Inner Sunset back to downtown, through Golden Gate Park. We stopped to look at ducks and geese. I pointed out all the different art projects along JFK drive. I stopped at a laundromat whose name makes me laugh for some reason, its name is ‘Wishy-Washy’

I spend half my time in Monterey, which is obviously an incredibly beautiful place. I am known at work for having a Polaroid camera I bring everywhere with me. I have a good eye for capturing candid moments of people. If they want a photo, I take it for them. And give it to them.

My coworkers’ desks are increasingly filling up with instant photos I’ve taken of them. My goal is to give them so many.