Window-Washing

Sitting in the conference room on the 12th floor a few days ago, I noticed that there were window-washers on the high-rise next to us. There they were, about six guys rappelling down the face of the building, swinging back and forth while squeegeeing (wow, I have no idea if that's the correct word but let's roll with it) the shiny, blue-glass windows.

I got so insanely jealous of those guys, cause it looked like so much fun to just hang there, chillin', 12 stories up, sloshing soapy water onto what I imagined to be the heads of some sodden, luckless passerby. I commented to my coworker - in all seriousness - about how that would be a much more rewarding career for me, and wondered out loud how one gets into such a line of work. She laughed in my face and called me "eccentric," which, at the moment, I suppose I deserved. I guess window-washer is the sort of thing that you would really dig for about a week or so, but it, like anything else, probably also gets old after a little while.

Lo and behold, I was re-visiting a favorite webcomic today and came across this, which basically sums up my feelings about life just now: