February 26, 2009, 10AM

"Ok, I'll see you later, dude. I'm going to pick Brett up from the train station. Her train gets in at 12:30."
Cohn looked up from the TV. "I should still be here when you get back then. So I'll just see you guys then."
"Sweet. Sounds good. Later."

I had to go across the city to school first. I got into my car and drove down the hill to the avenue at the bottom. I took the same route, a tour of several of the wealthy and/or hip Seattle neighborhoods, that I did most days on my way to school. I turned right at the base of the hill and drove up 15th Ave through Interbay. I turned right onto Nickerson, driving across the northern boundary of Queen Anne. Across the Fremont Bridge, I turned right on Pacific Ave, which ran the southern border of Wallingford and the north end of Lake Union.

Every day, midway between the bridge and the University of Washington, I drive past Gas Works park. It's the place I go for peace in this city.

There was still evidence on the ground from the light snow that Seattle had received the night before. I walked across Red Square from the parking garage to the CSE building. I was to meet a group of classmates who needed some technical help on a research project. The meeting went well. Afterwards, I told them that I would see them in class when I knew that I would not. So many times throughout each day, too often to even count, I lie for the sake of convenience. It is a weak thing to do. I am unable to live with the tension of an exposed and unjustified aberrance in my character or action.

I remember all of that a week later like I remember most things a week later: remembering it has the quality of peering through an ever-thickening mist.