Not My Day
So despite the assurances of the Computing Division, this morning's power outage resulted in the entire critical floor of the Feynman Computing Center crashing, ensuring that the entire day would be spent in recovery mode. It got so bad that they called in everyone, including retired people like me. So I have to start working on fixing other people's mistakes.
So then, after debugging the startup of several dozen Linux systems, I go to talk to the rest of the team. So I'm sitting there, I lean back and stretch, and find a funny bump on my arm. I try to brush it off, but it doesn't move. Wondering what the hell I've done to myself this time I take a closer look and find that the bump is vaguely round and has six legs. What it doesn't have is a head, because that's already buried under my skin and is busy removing nutrients.
Since I can find neither the bottle of rubbing alcohol nor the pair of tweezers we keep for this sort of emergency, I have to walk through ninety degree heat and extremely high humidity all the way to Wilson Hall to the nurse's station to have the damn thing removed before it gets nice and fat.
So no sooner do I get back then I go back to the rest of the team and try to continue the same conversation. Whereupon one of them points out that there's something moving on my shirt.
Which is how I got tick guts all over my shirt. I sure as hell wasn't going to let the second one get anywhere near exposed flesh.
The next time I'm going into that office, I'm bringing a flamethrower.
So then, after debugging the startup of several dozen Linux systems, I go to talk to the rest of the team. So I'm sitting there, I lean back and stretch, and find a funny bump on my arm. I try to brush it off, but it doesn't move. Wondering what the hell I've done to myself this time I take a closer look and find that the bump is vaguely round and has six legs. What it doesn't have is a head, because that's already buried under my skin and is busy removing nutrients.
Since I can find neither the bottle of rubbing alcohol nor the pair of tweezers we keep for this sort of emergency, I have to walk through ninety degree heat and extremely high humidity all the way to Wilson Hall to the nurse's station to have the damn thing removed before it gets nice and fat.
So no sooner do I get back then I go back to the rest of the team and try to continue the same conversation. Whereupon one of them points out that there's something moving on my shirt.
Which is how I got tick guts all over my shirt. I sure as hell wasn't going to let the second one get anywhere near exposed flesh.
The next time I'm going into that office, I'm bringing a flamethrower.