another fucked up day
I woke up with yet more shooting pains in my neck. I think I slept very fitfully; I remember a dream wherein I was being quizzed (in written form) on my knowledge of Madonna songs (which is lackluster).
At K.'s request, I spent several hours this morning attempting to pen a report disputing some performance results (somehow, I am always burdened with those tasks that relate to writing). This would have been no problem except that I rapidly began to uncover holes in my own arguments, eventually resulting in a far less critical analysis. Also, K. became bored with whatever work (if any) he had to do and ended up in my office watching movie trailers on my test computer. I found this to be as distracting as the farm animal sounds (if not more so).
Eventually, we headed off to lunch with G. (from work) and no one would commit to a destination. I was actually somewhat pissed off because my neck pain is constant and writing that email for K. should not have taken all morning (were it not for his incessant distractions). The three of us were standing around staring at each other in a sort of passive-aggressive silence when my manager stopped by. It seems that, based on an analysis of more recent data (to which I am not privy), they have decided to downgrade the very bug about which I just wrote my little rant. I was ever so pleased, particularly since I CC'd many a manager... making an argument based on dated data.
We settled on a cafeteria and I ordered some sort of Asian Caesar Salad, but the entire kitchen had run out of bread so I had no filler to accompany my meal. While trying to block out K. and G.'s discussion of the usual, tired engineering topics, I managed to miss my mouth with a forkful of chicken, lettuce, white dressing, and parmesan cheese. I am wearing a black sweater, or rather I was wearing a black sweater prior to this incident.
Finally, G. (from Baltimore) has sent me email asking for driving directions. He is going to come down Saturday and we are going to hang out again. I'm nervous, but not so much about him coming down; I'm nervous about giving him my address. It's only fair (seeing how I have been to his home), but I think I have trust issues.
And a history of stalkers.
I just realized that I used G twice in this entry to refer to two different people. I apologize. I have added parenthetical information to clarify the situation.
At K.'s request, I spent several hours this morning attempting to pen a report disputing some performance results (somehow, I am always burdened with those tasks that relate to writing). This would have been no problem except that I rapidly began to uncover holes in my own arguments, eventually resulting in a far less critical analysis. Also, K. became bored with whatever work (if any) he had to do and ended up in my office watching movie trailers on my test computer. I found this to be as distracting as the farm animal sounds (if not more so).
Eventually, we headed off to lunch with G. (from work) and no one would commit to a destination. I was actually somewhat pissed off because my neck pain is constant and writing that email for K. should not have taken all morning (were it not for his incessant distractions). The three of us were standing around staring at each other in a sort of passive-aggressive silence when my manager stopped by. It seems that, based on an analysis of more recent data (to which I am not privy), they have decided to downgrade the very bug about which I just wrote my little rant. I was ever so pleased, particularly since I CC'd many a manager... making an argument based on dated data.
We settled on a cafeteria and I ordered some sort of Asian Caesar Salad, but the entire kitchen had run out of bread so I had no filler to accompany my meal. While trying to block out K. and G.'s discussion of the usual, tired engineering topics, I managed to miss my mouth with a forkful of chicken, lettuce, white dressing, and parmesan cheese. I am wearing a black sweater, or rather I was wearing a black sweater prior to this incident.
Finally, G. (from Baltimore) has sent me email asking for driving directions. He is going to come down Saturday and we are going to hang out again. I'm nervous, but not so much about him coming down; I'm nervous about giving him my address. It's only fair (seeing how I have been to his home), but I think I have trust issues.
And a history of stalkers.
I just realized that I used G twice in this entry to refer to two different people. I apologize. I have added parenthetical information to clarify the situation.