Commute

Most mornings, I'd rather run. It wakes me up and gives me the sense that I've done something important for my body before I spend 8 or 9 hours working with my brain. But in terms of just getting from one place to another place when driving doesn't make sense, walking is it.

It's about 3.5 miles from home to my office. It's beautiful walking weather today, sunny and cool, so when I got to the subway station I just kept going.

I didn't realize there's a pretty big farmers' market at Civic Center. Don't know if it's every day or just Wednesdays, but they had all the same stands as the Noe Valley and Grand Lake markets. Funny to see the scene I associate with young yuppie families and organic foodies transplanted to a grimy spot downtown.

Between Franklin and Fourth, Market Street smells like waffles and pot. After that, it smells like buses and retail.

When people ask what music I listen to, my standard answers are blues, jazz, hip-hop, some rock and electronica, etc. But I think it's time to officially declare myself a fan of angsty/intellectual guy folk/rock (AIGFR). That's what I felt like hearing this morning, and it turns out my iPod is overflowing with it: Mason Jennings, Bon Iver, John Vanderslice, Jack Johnson, Hudson Bell, M. Ward, Mike Doughty, Iron & Wine, Red House Painters. Maybe the acronym will catch on.

The only downside is that it's really hard to go inside and sit down after being out in the world like that. Maybe the sheer volume of work on my desk will help somehow.