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The sun and rain are playing a happy game of tag in the skies over Seattle. They switch just enough that I keep my favorite pair of Ray-Bans couched in the overdue-for-a-haircut, cutely-messy blond tangle on my head. Tiny puddles send tickling tongues of cold water over the sides of my red and grey Reef flip-flops and soak the strings trailing off my aged, trusty Polo Banner Jeans. The dark grey of my equally old Counter Culture shirt pleases me as always. The lingering taste of my handmade coppa and gorgonzola with extra garlic fills my mouth and mingles perfectly with the San Pellegrino Limonata soda that I'm washing it down with. New songs by The Killers and Snow Patrol hum through my Grados, and code actually works.

It's not a bad life, and I need to remember that more.