I've picked up the word "stressmonkey" from shadesong
, and I've been using it heavily.
This weekend, I wasn't online much of at all -- Thursday I was pranking my best friend, Friday I was working a six hour shift, Saturday I was working an eight hour shift, Sunday I was working a ten hour double shift.
The entire weekend, I was dealing with spyware/adware. I swear there should be counseling for people who have gotten spyware who are also very connected with their computers. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: when Slackerprep (the obnoxious young man in my first tri of my attempted Business Information Systems degree who wound up flubbing his role as Business Project Group Leader) fondled my thigh while I was trying to help him with a paper, that was less invasive than having spyware on my machine. It's also easier (for me) to turn around and give a full-grown man a decisive wallop than it is for me to hunt down the people responsible for writing the ware that invaded my computer's personal areas and give each of them the same.
Because of all this activity, plus trying to maintain sanity, I consequently haven't been getting the sleep that I have attempted to outline in my schedule for myself. This morning I was hitting the snooze button again and again, trying to get back to my dreams. Darkside was having a conversation with me there. There was something about bus schedules that we were trying to talk about, and he was talking about his father making him do laundry instead of talk to me, or something... it was altogether the ordinary sort of happy quiet mundane conversation that comforts me best, and I kept being woken from it.
I finally came to full consciousness at 7:40, with class at 8:00. I zoomed around, and screamed out the door just as votania
left, at about 7:55. Three minutes into my walk to school, her car pulled up alongside me, and I hopped in. We cracked jokes about her having picked up a hooker; as she dropped me off, I shouted, "Fo' dolla'!" after her. (Someone read South Pacific
too many times when she was a kid.) I was actually on time, not that the teacher was.
Somewhere on the way to school walking, my head was playing Grateful Dead, and I was trying to figure out how "Casey Jones" lined up with ASP.NET -- "Bad code ahead, bad Codebehind..." and I figured that while I could probably replace the cocaine lines with something interesting that still fit the rhyme scheme, the "watch your speed" pun would be utterly lost, which overloaded meaning is one of the things that makes the song good. *sigh* The things my brain does in the morning.
I've got a computer with a mouse that needs to watch its speed -- the left-click is funky and starts flickering when I'm just trying to drag something, so I wind up dragging a little ways and then double-clicking, which would be OK in certain circumstances, but is not OK when you're monkeying around in this IDE -- I wind up seeing the raw HTML behind my ASP.NET without really wanting to do anything more than move the bloody image.
GSU meeting later on today. Not sure who else, if anyone, will be showing.