6am and on. Thunder, light rain, trucks on the construction site, a road more crowded. Early procedures: Working through that other half of electronic mail that remained unaddressed the last couple of days. Watching another schedule fill up quickly. And still in an inner negotiation about priorities and things acceptable to postpone. Common workflows.

Somewhere in the eighth hour, eventually left the house for the greater city, commuting all along roads, rivers, parks, crossing all these small lanes, watching the urban janitors removing what the night left behind, resisting to argue with crows and pigeons on whether the innards of garbage bins should be inspected much beyond a mere peek. Opinions opinions. (And continuing: Office floors. Office kitchen. Tight schedule, and the gift of a few seconds of mind in an odd tense, fast idle mode. Things move.)

Tasks overdue but left as scheduled to have them visible every morning anew. Stories of roadblocks, impediments and the inability to circumvent them - with footnotes citing priority mismatches. There's hours of work and hours of sorting. And maybe hours of communicating. 9am and slowly on.

(Wiping that one mail folder again. Moving appointments, but as a mechanical task, like a sieve that then and now lets more relevant tasks stay in focus. Fast-paced clouds and the sound of garbage bins in the street, along with wheels running on wet concrete. 7am, the neighbourhood's busier again this week.) 

Somewhere along the morning and still getting oneself sorted. Remainders of snow melting on the office roofs, neighbours having a cigarette on the terrace and their clothes seem to counter the season very much. Elsewhere: Day rescheduled, priorities switched, code changed and system links established. Old components new issues and one never stops wondering.