A week ago life was so simple, so quiet.
I worked in my office in the day, Wilson read The Hobbit and ate a popsicle. The kittens would chase balls of yarn, rumbling on the floor between naps.
Eli Archibald returns from the week away like a shot of adrenaline, mainlined into the home: late night Paypal transfers incoming, what's the rate of exchange? Minecraft servers are being ...hit by a hacker who is tweeting the hits in real time! Eli wears a headset during the day, Skype calls to Australia, time zones expanding, how can we protect this server?
Wilson now follows the hacker's Twitter feed, his avatar is a formal photograph of Vladimir Putin: "I suspect he's using Putin's photograph to make you think he is powerful. Sorry to say his fan base is a pool of 12 year olds", Eli observes.
Footsteps shake the home like those in Jurassic Park. Voices bellow, sports talk radio never ends. Now our home buzzes like ground zero that is both Times Square and Wall Street, as well as some underground Minecraft base for all things vice.
Next week he's in Bike Camp. At that point, the kittens will once again chase balls of yarn.