This afternoon the movers decided to tear down a bunch of cubes in the row next to mine. I think they were throwing things on the ground specifically to make it impossible to do any sort of work within a 100 meter radius.

Fed up, I headed down to The Faultline. At the Faultline, I can work in relative peace and quiet, with unlimited frosty IPAs within arm’s reach. Until my battery runs out — then I guess I get to go home.

Damn, it’s good to be a Princeling of the Silicon Valley.