I'm not insane

Really, I'm not.

That's why this blog is subtitled "from the edge of insanity", and not "from the insane asylum". It's a verifiable scientific fact that I'm writing this from the comfort of my own home. Well, in a sense -- I guess technically the bank still owns it. But I'm working on that.

But I've got to be a little bit insane to ride my bike to work every day, where I hack ANSI C code. Hell, the highlight of my day is often when I look at the route table on my switch and see that the routing protocols I'm verifying have done their job. This kind of stuff doesn't make most anyone else feel a sense of accomplishment, does it? So I must be a little bit insane.

"I won't be needing a bag", I say at the supermarket, as I reveal my trusty backpack. The clerks usually smile and nod. But I know that somewhere, deep down inside, they must think there's some insanity there. Even I admit that no matter how many times I make a zero-carbon trip to the supermarket, there are hundreds more shoppers and employees with their cars in the parking lot. And a big-ass truck in the back unloading goods from half way across the world.

"Drink the kool-aid", they say. So what if the world is going to hell all around you? "There's nothing you can do, so relax", they say, as if that should be comforting. Somehow, I have still managed to reject that concept.

And that is why I am on the edge of insanity.