Damn it All to Hell.

25,000 men, women, and children waited with Abrams and me in the hail, wind, and rain for 3 hours last night to see a baseball game, to see Randy win number 300. But no baseball was played. And now he won today, in like 2 hours, in front of no one, while we were all at work. Sweet irony. At least someone ran on the field and made an aggressive slide into home on top of the tarp. Fine way to spend a night in jail. Also, lightning struck the parking structure just beyond right center, bringing bemused smiles and tears depending on age. Lastly, we learned that Nationals Ballpark is the "greenest ballpark in America." Brian and I found it odd that they forced him to take a plastic bag when he bought his hat at the team store.

On my way to work every day I ride up an extremely long escalator, perhaps the longest I have ever been on. You emerge out into the open, and I quite enjoy it. Today there was a man at the top busking Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah." Made me smile.

Another thing made me smile today. Also made me a trifle uneasy. I was waiting for an elevator outside the cafeteria for a some time, when the large-ish middle aged woman next to me decided to explain that some building owners put up mirrors in some skyscraper in New York City to make people's elevator waits more tolerable. According to this woman, New Yorkers are so vain that the mirrors distracted them from their boredom.

I held back my true feelings and politely explained to her that there is a particular train line in Tokyo where everyone goes if their plan is to toss themselves on the tracks to their death. The authorities put up mirrors along that line across from the platforms so people would think twice, I told her.

Blank stare.

"It worked quite well, actually," I finished.

As we exit the elevator she looks at me and says "I guess mirrors make a lot of things better."

"I guess so."

She smiles, "I can think of one thing in particular, but we can't talk about it because we are at work."

I quickly turned down hallway number six without looking back.