The Secret Journal of Neil Patel #1
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I used to make fun of diary scribes. Now I’m one of them.
Great. Just great.
<scratching head as I try to figure out how to do this>
Okay, I’ll start at the beginning. My foot. Ponder took it. I’m never getting it back. Wah, wah, wah. Such a baby.
I’ve met people who have it a lot worse than me. Brave men and women who’ve lost every limb and still figure out how to keep going. I have ZERO right to complain.
So why am I here? Why and I writing this?
Short answer: Doc Higgins thought it might be useful.
Long answer: Something squirrelly this way runs. Work is fine. Better than fine if you analyze the bottom line. While SSI isn’t exactly public anymore, we’ve got more than enough contacts and contracts to keep us busy and running for decades to come. But I think the good doctor is right. Something’s up in my head. An unease. A fidgetiness. (Is that even a word?)
Sorry. I can’t promise that my entries will be typo free. I build stuff. I don’t write books.
Back to the long answer.
Doc Higgins thought it might be useful to recap my days and/or start my days with whatever’s running through my noggin.
So that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t know what’s gonna come out on the page, but I promised that I’d give it a go. So I will. And if anyone ever finds this journal (I’ve hidden it in the deepest depths of SSI’s network so it won’t) I hope they don’t judge me too harshly. Because I’m just a computer guy trying to get by. And if I don’t lie, or poke myself in the eye, who knows what might come by.
See. I can barely rhyme. There goes my budding hip-hop career.
Until next time, Dear Diary.
Your loving newbie scribe, Neil
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