For some reason no other page beyond the front page will resolve tonight. Somewhere between Fantastico Deluxe automatic Wordpress upgrades and FastCGI acceleration and I-don’t-even-know-what-else my site is broken tonight. And I’m too tired to fix it.
ARRRGGH! All I gotta say is those other pages had better be working in the morning.
Update: Now everything works. Go figure. Stupid webserver.
Dear co-workers,
Please just shut up. I don’t need this today.
Normally I am distantly amused by your griping about things that matter not a whit in the larger scheme of things, and your pettiness, and in your case, C., your incredibly stunted emotional maturity level, but today just take it somewhere else.
“Did you take care of this request for me?”
Did you follow the protocol like you’re supposed to?
“What? Can’t you just set it up?”
If you haven’t gotten the authorization you need then the answer is no. We went through this all last time so I know this is nothing new to you.
“I don’t want to have to call you at home tomorrow if this isn’t set up right.”
Well. It turns out I don’t want you to call me at home, either. So kindly follow the fucking steps we’re required to go through in the future instead of dumping this on me at the last minute.
Yes, K., go home. That’s fine. You would just end up making needless work for me if you stayed by asking me questions that have nothing to do with what we’re working on. No, C., I’m not going to go to lunch and gossip with you, I’m not in the mood for your childishness today. Make that sulky pouting face if you want, it might make your boyfriend knuckle under but you should have figured out by now it has no effect on me. For fuck’s sake, D., I don’t know how much more explicit I can make this email so you can understand what I’m trying to ask you.
Of all the days to have an issue with connecting to the remote site, today this is not what I needed. We need better equipment, I swear these Win-boxes were thrown together by monkeys.
Would it have killed me to have swallowed my goddamn pride and said goodbye to her last night before I left? Asshole.
“Is this all set up and ready to go now?”
It’s as set up as it’s going to get considering you didn’t want to make the arrangements you were supposed to make.
I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore, some days.
I am going to glare at this monitor until the tube explodes or it turns into a starfish.
Attention: Californians. Visited Oregon lately? Thought, “Oh, how lovely!” Well, here’s our summer for you:
When I woke up this morning I initially thought that I had overslept for work by four months and was looking out my window at October. Then I remembered that summers west of the Cascades sometimes include pouring down torrential summer rains. At least it was warm out so I could close my eyes and pretend it was tropical summer rain in Puerto Vallarta, although this illusion disappeared quickly when I looked around and saw that I was actually waiting to catch the train with a bunch of hippies.
The clouds hung around for most of the day, clearing up as the day drew to a close, which worked out fine for me since I enjoy watching the colors of the sunset playing across the clouds.
All I gotta say is, if this summer has any more raining to do then it had better get it out of its system tonight and tomorrow morning, because I want the sun to come out and dry things out for the weekend. And not just for me, although obviously I’d enjoy a sunny Saturday — I happen to know someone who is having an outdoor wedding this Saturday, and she deserves a clear blue sky and a plenty of blooming sunflowers.
That, or else I’m going to kill him. Let me tell you about the guy in the unit next to me. Three times in the last week I’ve been awakened after midnight by his fire alarm going off. The first time was probably the scariest because after I listened to the alarm going off for almost thirty seconds I heard the distinctive THUMP of him jumping out of bed. I can only assume this meant that he put something on the stove to cook and then decided that a quick cat nap was in order. What I want to know is, what is he cooking up at 12:30 AM? I can understand keeping weird hours, I keep some weird ones myself, but this is a pretty disturbing trend of setting things on fire in his kitchen in the middle of the night. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until he burns the whole complex down.
Another thing: in my apartment building, the halls and common areas have AC but the individual units do not. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together (so, three people on my floor) has figured out that if you close your window and open your door on unbearably hot days the air in your room gets circulated out into the hall and the oven like temperatures in your room get down to the point where it’s possible to get to sleep at night. This would also probably be a good time for me to get out and meet some of the people on my floor if not for the fact that I am scared of them because I am pretty sure they are all crackheads. I’m walking back from taking out my garbage when I see that my neighbor has opened his door, too. At first I charitably think, “Hey, maybe he isn’t such a complete moron,” but then I realized that the reason he opened his door is because he burned his dinner yet again, and instead of doing the honorable thing and throwing himself out the window in shame, he was ventilating his room by letting the smoke get sucked out into the common area. That, and the smell of whatever else it is that he keeps in his room, which I am guessing must be some as-yet-undiscovered-by-Western-science specimen of swamp orangutan.
I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. I’ve gotta get out of this place.
Dear Comcast Cable Internet,
What’s the story? We’ve been together for quite a few months now. Yeah, I was late paying my bill the first month. And maybe again on the fifth month. But I’ve been good ever since about paying on the time. So why do you stop working all of a sudden for no good damn reason? Seriously, I want to know.
I got up this morning, and, concerned that my bill was due soon, checked your website so I could pay. Lo and behold, it said I owed zero dollars. Cool, I thought. I’m payed up, nothing to worry about yet. So why do I come home to find my Internet not working? What the fuck? Is this funny to you? I am not pleased. That shit had better be working when I get home.
Dear Timbuk2,
You mind telling me what this ad is supposed to be about?
“…that jerk who stole your virginity”? Jeez, that’s great. What fucking decade did the tools in your marketing department fall out of? Let me guess, your next ad campaign will talk about the durability of your products, right? “Just like the shame that comes with being branded an adulteress, our bags will last for a lifetime.”
Please.
I am even less amused with you than I am with those Comcast bastards. Although I’ve used one of your laptop bags for the last two years and enjoyed it, this is not cool. Cut this shit out, or I may have to destroy you.
(Image and info courtesy of Portland Indymedia.)
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