Sometimes you just have to face the fact that you're not going to get much accomplished during the day. For me, it's been like that all week. I've given up on this week. I'll regroup and start with a good attitude Monday, but I've had too many distractions and not enough residual energy to be productive.

And some day (maybe Saturday) I really must find a way to catch up on sleep.

This afternoon I told the Boss I had to leave at four o'clock to head for the bus to Pacific Bell Park. There wasn't much he could say, especially since I've given up trips to the lake twice this year, both times with work as a large part of the reason.

As I was standing in line to board the bus, I heard someone standing behind me call my name. I had scanned the crowd earlier and not recognized anyone, but when I turned around, my old boss from the shoe store reintroduced himself to me. It's been fifteen years, but apparently I haven't changed as much as he has, because if it hadn't been for his distinctive voice, I still wouldn't have known for sure it was him.

We didn't part under the best of circumstances in 1985. I thought I was bounced out of the organization unfairly, and he thought I'd been a lousy manager and had cost him money. I've been avoiding situations where I might run into him all this time (not that there were many such occasions, but I would walk out of my way to keep from passing in front of the entrance to his store, for example).

Finding him on the same bus was awkward, although he was friendly enough. I don't think we had a lot to say to each other.

That's funny, because for several years we worked together all day every day. For most of the time I worked for him, I admired him to the point of adulation. He taught me so much about how to be around people, and what the salesman's job is, that I still owe him a debt. Some of the pet phrases that he used to say still come spontaneously to my lips quite often. He had the most intelligently informed sense of humor of anyone I've ever known.

But we're different people now, and while we acknowledged each other and were cordial, the old familiarity was gone. There were times when he said something to me and I could think of no response except to nod. The fact that he and his wife sat behind Eric and me at the game actually helped a little, because we didn't have to avoid each other. We could make small talk in the context of the game, and ignore each other the rest of the time.

Eric was waiting by the side of the road about halfway between Santa Rosa and San Francisco. (Yes, this was prearranged, not just a bizarre coincidence.) I think I relaxed more as soon as I saw him. And then he told me he'd scored a couple of tickets to Sunday's game, and I brightened up even more.

We got to the ballpark early enough to walk around the rim of the stadium, and we found the seats we'll be occupying Sunday. We're in right centerfield, just to the right of the scoreboard, along the arcade that runs parallel to McCovey Cove. (If you're there, look for us. There's only a small possibility of a home run getting out to that part of the park, but check Sportscenter Sunday night anyway, just in case.)

As usual when we go on a packaged trip, we had seats that were both high above the field and far down the foul line, in this case the third base foul line. We overlooked left field, just above the Giants' bullpen. At least, we knew it was down there, even if we couldn't actually see it.

And the game was an enjoyable one, if not exactly a thriller. The Giants beat the Padres, 13-0. One team did everything right and the other did everything wrong. That doesn't make for a classic contest, but it's fun when it's your team that's in first place and winning game after game. I've found over the years, after almost as many losing seasons as winning ones, that it's more fun to win than to lose. I just wanted to share that wisdom.

It was after midnight by the time the bus got me back home, so by the time I came down from my baseball high long enough to get my journal entry written, I'd pretty much assured myself that I'll be dragging all day tomorrow. As I may have mentioned, I really must find a way to catch up on sleep. Some day.