Brooding

Yesterday's post has me thinking about thinking in a rather course and physical way. A few months ago I was doing some more mathematical work and needed a white board. There are few white boards in the office in which my desk is located, but the hallway outside of the office is covered with them. This is a counterintuitive arrangement, since people work in the office and could make use of white boards, whereas people rarely do much more than walk through the hallway. Some of the hallway white boards are covered with scribbles which have clearly not changed for many moons. Well, little be it for me to let social convention come between me and my white board. I spent a week or two camped out in the hallway, crouched on the floor, staring moodily at the white board. Apparently, my facial expression and body language reflect the depth of my thinking. While I was curled up in the fetal position on the side of the hallway, I was fairly regularly addressed by the passers-by who wanted to know if I was OK. "Yes, yes. I'm just thinking. Please go away." Of course, the scribbles I put on the board during that period are still there, along with the note "Please erase me."