Crap Continued.
So yesterday, my immediate supervisor, Mr. N, received an email from his immediate supervisor, Mr. P. Mr. P said that gaming at the desk reflects badly on me, on my colleagues, and on the American Way of Life. He then instructed Mr. N to "counsel me" on the importance of this matter. (The last time I got in trouble with Mr. P, he sat in a room with me and watched me give myself a stern talking-to.) Mr. N showed me the email - didn't forward it, just showed me on his own terminal - and said, "You counseled?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "OK," and we kept working.
My two high-school skippies here at work are still having trouble with the new software. Well, they get it, but the software is more having a problem with them. They can turn it on, they can log in, they understand how to work it, and it pretends it doesn't know what a record is; no matter what they search for, it comes up empty. Our software specialist says that everything should be working perfectly, an assertion that is not having any effect on the program's attitude.
I am reminded of an incident in high-school when I wrote a virus in BASIC. It was the last program called in DOS by autoexec.bat before Windows 3.1 started, and it mimicked a DOS prompt, with one critical difference: It would respond to any input with "Bad command or file name." (Any input, that is, except, "[vice-principal's name redacted] sucks", which printed "You darn tootin'!" on the screen, played the little beeps from "Du Hast" by Rammstein, and ended the program.) I was found out by my pre-calc teacher - the only man smart enough to hit CTRL-Break - who kept me after class and said, "There are two people in this school who could do that. Steve wouldn't. Just remember it's only funny once." I've never forgotten that lesson.
Last night, I went to the doctor. She was very courteous, and only 5 blocks from my house, but she figured I was getting better. So she prescribed 5 days(!) of antibiotics for me, but was kind enough to give me the industrial strength ones. I waited for them for over an hour, outside in the assbite cold. Not wanting to spend a great deal of money on dinner, but too hungry to wait until God knows when to get home, I made a meal of a large tomato, a small bag of fritos, and a bottle-coffee. Dove-Almond bar for desert.
But the time went by swiftly with help from a phone call from Morgana, who had just gotten back from the memorial service for her father. In Seattle. We had bailed on it, but then she unbailed and left me hanging from my metaphorical parachute going "What the hell?" By all accounts, it was not the travesty it could have been. The funeral director was not there to read the poem that he had written for the occasion (this had been my primary concern.)
Tonight, we go to the Theater! We see a play about the American Space Program! We watch children shuffle in their seats for three hours complaining that They Have To Pee! But seriously folks, it should be fun. I'm just hoping that these damn pills start working soon - I took my first megadose last night, and woke this morning actually worse. I am the only man I know whose diseases respond to medication by actively fortifying their positions.
CRAP!
PS - This entry - like the previous one - was written while sitting at the reception desk.
Booya.
My two high-school skippies here at work are still having trouble with the new software. Well, they get it, but the software is more having a problem with them. They can turn it on, they can log in, they understand how to work it, and it pretends it doesn't know what a record is; no matter what they search for, it comes up empty. Our software specialist says that everything should be working perfectly, an assertion that is not having any effect on the program's attitude.
I am reminded of an incident in high-school when I wrote a virus in BASIC. It was the last program called in DOS by autoexec.bat before Windows 3.1 started, and it mimicked a DOS prompt, with one critical difference: It would respond to any input with "Bad command or file name." (Any input, that is, except, "[vice-principal's name redacted] sucks", which printed "You darn tootin'!" on the screen, played the little beeps from "Du Hast" by Rammstein, and ended the program.) I was found out by my pre-calc teacher - the only man smart enough to hit CTRL-Break - who kept me after class and said, "There are two people in this school who could do that. Steve wouldn't. Just remember it's only funny once." I've never forgotten that lesson.
Last night, I went to the doctor. She was very courteous, and only 5 blocks from my house, but she figured I was getting better. So she prescribed 5 days(!) of antibiotics for me, but was kind enough to give me the industrial strength ones. I waited for them for over an hour, outside in the assbite cold. Not wanting to spend a great deal of money on dinner, but too hungry to wait until God knows when to get home, I made a meal of a large tomato, a small bag of fritos, and a bottle-coffee. Dove-Almond bar for desert.
But the time went by swiftly with help from a phone call from Morgana, who had just gotten back from the memorial service for her father. In Seattle. We had bailed on it, but then she unbailed and left me hanging from my metaphorical parachute going "What the hell?" By all accounts, it was not the travesty it could have been. The funeral director was not there to read the poem that he had written for the occasion (this had been my primary concern.)
Tonight, we go to the Theater! We see a play about the American Space Program! We watch children shuffle in their seats for three hours complaining that They Have To Pee! But seriously folks, it should be fun. I'm just hoping that these damn pills start working soon - I took my first megadose last night, and woke this morning actually worse. I am the only man I know whose diseases respond to medication by actively fortifying their positions.
CRAP!
PS - This entry - like the previous one - was written while sitting at the reception desk.
Booya.