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Yesterday i did not overwork by any stretch of the imagination. I took an afternoon break, trying to avoid the craving for a sweet, and took the kick scooter for a couple mile scoot to the bay and back. I missed my return path and added a good bit to the route as i continued on to the next return path.
I still engaged in sweets, and at home craved the friend onion bits and then charged through corn chips. I'm not sure what has me craving sugars and salts again, other than having treats through the holidays. As we made dinner, i told Christine about my day and that i felt like i'd forgotten something, that something was hanging over me, that i was going to be hit with it on the following work day.
Christine had evening plans to install Windows 7 on the laptop of a good friend and her first subcontractor (allowing Christine to be engaged in a start up project while also engaging in this year's adventure). I hope to get "things done" but had set the expectation that i would have a phone call about planning a memorial service. I'd left a message.
We were starting the documentary Obscene and starting our take out meal from Chipolte as we waited on others when the phone rang. It was my call, i expected -- and it was, but not from Meeting. No, i ended up on the phone for 143 minutes as we struggled to roll back the changes that went in at 6 pm PDT. I'm not looking forward to the post mortem at all.
I really really really HATE the component that was having problems. And it's not my team's component. It's like that component doesn't have anyone to care for it, and i don't have nurturing feelings towards bad code/architecture/planning.
Last night's sleep was fitful. I know i dreamed there was an earthquake off the shelf of antarctica in the southern Atlantic, leading to tsunami that would inundate the southern half of Africa (I know there are some upland regions, but the dream treated the whole southern half as a great coastal plain). We knew that Europe and the east coast would be hit, too, but for some reason didn't have the details. I was concerned about my horses which were living on the banks of the Schukyll in Philly. (What horses?) Meanwhile, the night sweats were not helping me sleep well, either.
--==∞==--
In other mildly cranky news, when i checked the State of the Union website at Whitehouse.gov yesterday, there was a typo in the big banner image: Ameircans. How embarrassing. I'm reading Always On: Language in an Online and Mobile World, where the author recalls a 2000 era Times Literary supplement review in which the reviewer asserts that all the competent proofreaders had been shot, given the profusion and proliferation of errors. I live with one of the folks who has an eagle eye for these errors. I don't. But i'm even finding things now (and although i fight the its/it's error i've found myself committing it, oh the horror). The typo was corrected at whitehouse.gov. Ghost of W, i suspect. (The "ei" must sound like a, as in neighbor. ah-MAYR-cans, is my guess.)
I still engaged in sweets, and at home craved the friend onion bits and then charged through corn chips. I'm not sure what has me craving sugars and salts again, other than having treats through the holidays. As we made dinner, i told Christine about my day and that i felt like i'd forgotten something, that something was hanging over me, that i was going to be hit with it on the following work day.
Christine had evening plans to install Windows 7 on the laptop of a good friend and her first subcontractor (allowing Christine to be engaged in a start up project while also engaging in this year's adventure). I hope to get "things done" but had set the expectation that i would have a phone call about planning a memorial service. I'd left a message.
We were starting the documentary Obscene and starting our take out meal from Chipolte as we waited on others when the phone rang. It was my call, i expected -- and it was, but not from Meeting. No, i ended up on the phone for 143 minutes as we struggled to roll back the changes that went in at 6 pm PDT. I'm not looking forward to the post mortem at all.
I really really really HATE the component that was having problems. And it's not my team's component. It's like that component doesn't have anyone to care for it, and i don't have nurturing feelings towards bad code/architecture/planning.
Last night's sleep was fitful. I know i dreamed there was an earthquake off the shelf of antarctica in the southern Atlantic, leading to tsunami that would inundate the southern half of Africa (I know there are some upland regions, but the dream treated the whole southern half as a great coastal plain). We knew that Europe and the east coast would be hit, too, but for some reason didn't have the details. I was concerned about my horses which were living on the banks of the Schukyll in Philly. (What horses?) Meanwhile, the night sweats were not helping me sleep well, either.
--==∞==--
In other mildly cranky news, when i checked the State of the Union website at Whitehouse.gov yesterday, there was a typo in the big banner image: Ameircans. How embarrassing. I'm reading Always On: Language in an Online and Mobile World, where the author recalls a 2000 era Times Literary supplement review in which the reviewer asserts that all the competent proofreaders had been shot, given the profusion and proliferation of errors. I live with one of the folks who has an eagle eye for these errors. I don't. But i'm even finding things now (and although i fight the its/it's error i've found myself committing it, oh the horror). The typo was corrected at whitehouse.gov. Ghost of W, i suspect. (The "ei" must sound like a, as in neighbor. ah-MAYR-cans, is my guess.)