Photos and Words of Patrick Calder

I live in Washington, DC with 1 cat named Pixel, 6 cameras, 3 computers, 158 movies, 286 books, and 1 bowling pin. I own the Design Foundry and pretend to be a graphic designer by day.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 3 years old. Opinions change. Tastes change. Everything changes. I may still agree with or like this, or I may not. But everything is kept up here for archival purposes.

a bad day / March 9, 2005

If you’re gonna post a gallery of images on consecutive pages of a website, make sure I can get to the next damn image by clicking on the current one. I so do not want to waste time looking for whatever form of navigation you came up with.
This was not a good day.
I should simply refuse to participate in any appointment or event which requires me to utilize an alarm clock to wake myself. The only time I ever enjoy waking up early is when I’m going to the airport. Late night or early morning airports have a kind of haze about them. The muzak has been shut off. The cleaning crew is more prominent than the guys with the guns. You feel like you’re floating down the hall. People act like people, and not like employees, and the tension is all let out of the place like an unknotted balloon.
But anyway…
I had to get up early. I had conned persuaded Drew into driving me around so I could take pictures for one of Jon‘s projects.
[Note to self: download the damn pictures before you lose them]
So up early, I was. Very early, if you ask me. I had to have time to do laundry before Drew arrived, since all my pants smelled of cigarette smoke from the clubs this past weekend.
[Note to self: heater always dries clothes faster than dryer]
My shower was prematurely interrupted by a client calling to panic. And while I shared her concerns, and was myself worrying, there is very little I can do, since the people hired to handle this portion of the project are still within their standard time-frame. However, there is no good way to point this out to a client without coming across as though you had said “Fuck you! I did my part, so give me money and bugger off!”.
So it’s a difficult situation to begin with, that I can in no way remedy. But these projects said client has been giving me are my favorites (and best) among my recent work. So I must find some way not to lose same said client for something I no longer have control over. Like I needed another reason to be paranoid about my business.
Shower completed, and other minor disturbances in the force quelled, Drew arrived an hour late as per usual. However, all that quelling had caused delays on my end, as well.
Throw bag together, put on shoes, grab keys, grab coat, put on pants, lock door, take elevator down, take elevator up, grab glasses, take elevator down, and meet Drew.
I had checked the weekly weather report at the beginning of the week. “Shit. Shit. Cold Shit. Shit. Wet Shit. So I chose the least shitty day–today–and decided I would take pictures then–er–now. But damn if it isn’t cold. And not just nipple-stiffening cold, but windy as hell, as well. But since I’m going out to take pictures, I’m wearing only a thermal shirt and a light windbreaker, (’cause trying to work with a bag and a camera and lenses while wearing a padded suede jacket is just ridiculous).
So I was forced to use the most inhumane of human inventions: the alarm clock. I have a nearly irate client whose work I adore that I will not be able to satisfy. I’m left in no mood to shoot guns, much less photos. And the weather is so frigid I can’t even press the shutter properly because my finger has stiffened up.
But thankfully a nice man at the yacht club pointed out that I shouldn’t be shooting photos in a national park without a permit.
This was a bad day. I am so sleeping-in tomorrow morning.

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