Who Would’ve Thought a Tech Company Would Make Me MORE a Writer?
Rain. Bagel and cream cheese, coffee here in my writing nook at Sonic. Sonic… this morning, the whole morning, perceiving a documentary on the business or a book, or both. What makes this place this place, with its pace and revolutionizing, multi-manuscript’d face? Still fighting off the cold I’ve had since last Thursday, the day I had a fever in the Field I’m sure and drove home only to have soup wife bought for me and go straight to bed. With this morning’s idea of Sonic as a true and renewing topic, not that it hasn’t been since I started but with this intensity of thought and analysis this morning on and through the company and what it is — I won’t let this cold and the clinging sniffled and odd-feel throat slow me.
Don’t have bagels too often in morning, but wife offered, gently insisted I have one. “You need to have breakfast, honey…” Part of me rolls my eyes, but not for long only to have my other side and voices set thank her and accept her offer. The bagel embodies the new start to the day, that every day entails Newness and this company provokes me a writer and recorder in a number of ways. Not just ways, but frames, captures, I feel I have to capture everything here. Everything has gravity and sown meaningfulness and an ontological lasso and sound, music for me and anyone with senses like mine. Anyone who’s a writer, or recorder. Breakroom walls, one of them, one of the larger sides to my left, now black when it used to be this 70s-looking, sort of cheesy green. Much prefer the black, but I feel the green as more consistent with Sonic’s chromatic chorus. The black does though offer Newness and symbolizes me, the writer at a tech company and dares me to entwine new approach, new climates in character and thought.
Going on my eighth month here, and still learning. Still amazed with the technology and the narrative, how quickly the company and certain departments can change but never sever or self-sever from its genesis nexus. Change, Revolution, Freedom, “the power of being nice”. Taking another bite of this wife-bagel, and sipping the coffee which I always get here in this breakroom costing a writer NOTHING, I look at the black wall, the ladder just in front of it. Huh… Lost in musings and thoughts of this and where I am but then I return cognition to the room, the ladder, the black, the hour. Now. Sonic with its framing and noted principles of seemingly simple business consistencies and functionality, putting me in new place, new sense of place. Impossible for the cold to curve my concentration. I have a subject, finally. One of this elevation and volume, significance and tell. Still smirking, that this internet company made me more of a writer than any winery, any class I’ve taught, surely any prior work location or structure. That’s what I needed, though. The Newness, this nook, this new wall color, everything here. Mine, like this bagel. (Which is now done.)