Initially, when I began working at Nextel, they assigned me to work with one PM and help her migrate content to the new website. The other contractor, who started with me, was assigned to another PM. This was a lucky (or providential) pairing, because it turns out that the PM I was assigned to was both a Christian and a huge Buffy/Angel fan. We worked well together, and I see us working well in the future.

Today, my friend Emily started work at Nextel. I went down to the lobby to “let her in,” and we stopped into the cafeteria to have breakfast and talk. Her manager arrived at work, and on her way in, she saw us in the cafeteria. She said hello, and we invited her to sit with us. We talked about the work Emily will be doing, as well as what the manager and I were already doing—comparing notes on the issues we both ran into. The conversation turned from work, and Emily said she wanted to join my kickball team in the spring. I told her I was starting a team for my church in the Vienna league, but we could possibly be on the same team in the Reston league. Her manager said she remembered seeing my McLean Bible Church volunteer work listed on my resume (I had also interviewed for Emily’s position) and that she and her husband also go to McLean.

In addition to these instances, I overheard a conversation my PM was having with another person the other day regarding their mutual Christianity.

So, in my first month at Nextel, I have inadvertently met three fellow Christians. I didn’t have to join a “support group” (a la Christians@AOL). I simply met them normally, like any other co-worker.

Something about that just makes me happy. Maybe Christians aren’t as scared to be identified as Christians in public anymore. Maybe times are changing. One can only hope.

Is it Friday? I didn’t notice. It’s just another day to me. It’s not payday, so I don’t really care. I just want to go home and read. I actually ate my lunch in the cafeteria today and brought my book to keep me company. I read for almost an hour on a nice, comfortable leather chair with a swivel table for my salad. It was nice and relaxing.

I might do some work for my dad this weekend. It’s $20/hour data entry, so it’ll be nice supplemental income. There’s no football this weekend, and I don’t care about the Australian Open finals anymore. There’s no TV. My next Netflix movies will arrive on Saturday. I’m looking forward to this batch—Sky Captain & the World of Tomorrow, Max Fleischer’s Superman, Max Fleischer’s Superman: Lost Episodes, Dr. Who: Robots of Death, and Animatrix. Good times.

My friend Emily will start work at Nextel on Monday. I don’t really know how or if that will change my daily work routine. But it will be nice to have someone to hang out with, should I wish to do so. We can people-watch in the cafeteria together—and maybe hit on the same girls.

I need to play tennis. I need that outlet. I need to find somewhere to play on the weekends. In the spring, I will invest in a ball machine, so I can go to the community court here in South Riding and hit balls by myself. If other folks arrive, maybe I could play with them. But there’s really no other way to meet tennis players in my neighborhood. I’ve got to start with just me and a machine. I think I’ll call the ball machine Bobo.

I was planning to go to the Ligonier 2005 National Conference in Orlando, Florida on March 10-12, but I found out this morning that everyone on my team at Nextel must be available to work every single day in March and April, due to the new website launch. That kinda sucks. I could probably still go to Orlando, but I don’t want to be the one guy, who’s out when everyone else is in the office on a weekend. I do have a wedding to photograph in April, so they’ll have to do without me for at least one Friday.

Honesty is always the best policy. I told my bosses that I didn’t have enough work to keep me busy all day. I volunteered to take on more work. This is in direct contrast to the attitude of “others,” who don’t do much all day and tell our bosses that she’s totally busy. I think the truth always comes to the surface, and the one who gets ahead is the one who people can rely on to be honest with them. I really do want more work, because I hate killing time. It might sound great—not having anything to do—but it gets old really fast. Time only passes quickly when you have something to do. And I want the next 5+ months to pass quickly.

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I try to be in bed by 9:30 PM each weeknight. I read for about half an hour, which makes me sleepy. I’m usually asleep by 10 PM.

My alarm is set for 6 AM. That gives me eight hours of sleep. I have to make sure the CD I wake up to is upbeat enough to get me going and reduce the “snooze factor.” Right now, it’s a White Stripes album.

I take a shower and get dressed. I go to my computer, check my e-mail, the news, the weather, and my torrent downloads.

I leave for work between 8:00-8:30 AM. As soon as I get into my car, I turn on the heat and place my sunglasses between my legs—in my crotch—to warm them up (if I put them on, when they’re cold, they fog up). Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at the stretch of road directly facing the rising sun. I put my sunglasses on.

I arrive at work between 8:30-9:00 AM. I retrieve a Diet Dr. Pepper from the kitchen drink machine. At 11:45 AM, I go downstairs to the cafeteria and create the same salad every day—green leaves, tomatoes, carrots, cheese, eggs, tuna, cucumbers, broccoli, raisons, and ranch dressing. I take the salad back upstairs to my desk.

Between 4:30-5:00 PM, I pack up my things and leave the office.

I take the same side streets, and a half hour later, I arrive at the post office, where I drop off any eBay packages or Netflix movies I may have, as well as pick up my own mail.

A half hour later, I arrive at home. This is usually between 5:30-6:00 PM.

I go to my computer, check my e-mail, the news, my torrent downloads, and the evening’s TV schedule.

I go upstairs, put something in the oven and set the timer for an hour.

I pop in a DVD, watch TV, pay bills, go through my mail, read, or exercise.

An hour later, I retrieve my food from the oven and eat it at my couch, while watching television.

The next hour and a half is free for additional reading, writing, online surfing, correspondence, journaling, posting eBay sales, cleaning, or whatever else I want to do.

At 9:00 PM, I get ready for bed, and am in my bed by 9:30 PM.

I like how in all of Isaac Asimov’s stories, all robots are governed by 3 fundamental “Laws of Robotics.” These laws are 1) A robot may not harm a human or allow a human to be harmed by inaction, 2) A robot must obey humans, unless it conflicts with the first law, and 3) A robot must protect itself from harm, unless it conflicts with the first and second law. All of the robots in Asimov’s stories have these rules engrained into their being. The fun begins when some robots start acting weird and apparently begin breaking one or more of these rules. Asimov’s main characters work through the issue psychologically and philosophically to solve the conundrum. In the end, his stories are resolved by careful consideration of how a robot’s logic conflicts with itself (the laws) and outside forces. Unlike a cheap mystery novel, when you finish one of Asimov’s robot stories, it makes total sense, but not obviously so. You’ve learned how to consider a problem in a whole new way. And are “enlightened” because of it. Asimov was a total genius. His stories have stretched my mind to new capacities—much like my experience studying theology and apologetics. I think I can say without a doubt that Isaac Asimov’s robot stories have been the smartest fiction I’ve ever read. He’s just amazing.

It’d be easy for evil characters in literature to “disable” or ignore Asimov’s Laws of Robotics and have robots do bad things willy-nilly, but I think it’s much more interesting to have a robot appear to break one of the rules (like kill somebody) and figure out logically how that happened. (Which coincidentally is the plot for the movie version of “I, Robot”—which they dumbed down quite a bit.)

Anyway, it’s fun creating a character for my story using the parameters set forth fifty years ago by a genius science fiction writer. Rather than create a mindless action story, I really want to continue the tradition of Asimov’s thought and add my own revelation to it. Like a debate, I want to add to the argument—add to the work of others—and not just rehash the same old stuff.

I’m getting excited. Pretty soon, “Heroine” will rise again.