June 19th, 2007

running, bomb tech

(no subject)

Unfinished projects. And you know, I'd started seeing that, a little, myself. I've started a file for the scraps of poetry that come to me but don't go anywhere. I mean, I have countless files with those in them, and more LJ-ing, but I don't have a central place for them. Didn't. Now I do.

I'm in ur t-shirt, filling in ur blankz.

If I ever get crazed fans who start telling my other fans what they may and may not say to me, please point me to it. (Friend who writes. Heard about something like this happening in their fandom. *pear*

Oh, *jesus*. http://sailormac.livejournal.com/709358.html?format=light WFI = still batshit and annoying the advertisers.

http://flamingnerd.livejournal.com/230476.html -- Ignoring Brain Illusions.

A better TMI warning than most I've seen: "Caution: Gynecological content." (From an unspecified member of my friendslist, unless they wish to claim it.)
running, bomb tech

Tuesday, the sort of thing that doesn't show up on the radar.

2007.06.19 Tuesday, the sort of thing that doesn't show up on the radar.


So I have to switch domains. And since I am bloody well sick of migrating between computers, even though I'm using the same machine, I poked the internet, and the internet told me about the Files and Settings Transfer Wizard. I'm going to see how well this works. Meanwhile, I can always try and get productive work done on the other machine in this room, the one that Snarky Lady uses.

I think I should poke at The Monthly Sheets, given that they're full of PHEAR and I should get them done by the end of the month.


So it turns out that the Monthly Sheets are connected to the Yearly Sheets (and gods help me, these *are* the actual names; I'm not editing the names of the things for once because they're so bland that they don't tell ANYTHING; they track some sort of inane BS that I probably can't describe and wouldn't want to because unless you're into this sort of thing it would be boring and if you were into this sort of thing you'd probably be competition or potential competition) in some way that is obscure and scary. And incidentally, this color combo?





















Not good for spreadsheets that you want people to use or at least not loathe. Management has explicitly instructed me to change the bloody color scheme, it sucks that much.

The trouble sometimes is that my brain does such *different* things that it thinks of as "work". Also, if something is insufficiently challenging, I will want to ignore it and go on to other things that are sufficiently challenging. People who can never seem to pick up after themselves? Sometimes it's not that "picking up that thing and putting it where it belongs is a hard thing to do", it is that "picking up that thing is easy; I can do that any time; I'd rather focus on the stuff that is actually hard." It's the remembering to pick up that thing and those things regularly that's the challenge, and not leaving it until it's a disaster. Hello, Ravenclaw Tower.


Snarky Lady is here. Hello, Snarky Lady.

I discovered that I'm happiest when I've found something new to bitch about in the way of a computer project. If it has me running off for tea five times a day, it's doing a good job of keeping me occupied. If I'm frowning (not scowling) when I wander out for more tea, and muttering gently under my breath about dickheaded designers and the like (not cursing at the top of my lungs), I'm perfectly happy. Well, not *happy*-sparkly-blinkie-ponies happy, but happy as a duck in mud. (That's pretty happy.)


Glitter is loose in my main work bag. This can't end well. ...Oh, and a strawberry too. (That one was all my fault. I had insecure fruit yesterday. I have no fruit today, neither secure nor insecure. I plan to fix this come time for Anime Night.)

O sweet Enki, hacker-god. This series of spreadsheets is another thing crying out for a proper database, but FUCK IT I AM NOT BUILDING ONE FOR THIS. For one thing, it's not my responsibility. For another, it doesn't need one because I won't be using it enough to hate it that much. And besides, it has tentacles in places that don't need tentacles, and JUST LOOKING AT IT BURNS US.

But. Not my responsibility.


Exchanges I don't need to have--

Trainee: [I has a document for you to inspect. ]
Me: [$JOB needs its weekly $DATA, Y, Z -- rest looks good.]
Her: 'k. *fixes Y and Z* *distributes document electronically*
Me: "$JOB weekly line; $DATA."
Her: "What about them?"
Me: "Where they should have been, I didn't see them. I did see how the old hours from last week weren't there, though, just as they're not supposed to be."
Her: "Wait, what?" *calls me*

I don't think this is one of our good communication days.


Cup of tea has been refreshed. Spreadsheets still not behaving.

What with actually having time in the schedule to bleed both the days I was supposed to, I was actually able to stuff some of the leftovers from last week into my cookie jar. The cookie jar in question is where I put spare change that is not pennies and spare other money that I want to put out of mind for the kind of project that doesn't warrant getting money out of anywhere actually secure I've stuffed it (like a savings account), but does warrant dipping into something. A renfair trip, a vacation, or something like that would warrant a dive into this. A pizza party might. A soda would not. Running out at midnight in case of zombies definitely would.

I budget two ways to avoid coming up horribly, horribly short too often: bank and cash.

I handle things like rent, bills, through the bank. Money comes in from job; money goes out to bills. It's usually roughly the same, so I get a feel for how things are doing. I try to avoid buying groceries via bank-money too often, because while there's room for groceries in the bank-budget, it's just not much room. I try and stuff what extra I have there into savings, so it's not sitting there and tempting me, saying "Sure, you can go get a Roomba! Just don't expect to be able to buy groceries out of here until next two weeks, maybe next four weeks!" It's a weakness I know I have. So when I buy groceries on bank-money, I stock up on staples. If the household can't live off the contents of the pantry for a month (not necessarily healthily, but survivably) then I'm shopping wrong and Dad should re-teach me.

I handle regular groceries and "fun stuff" with cash. I know I have to have cash on hand for things like the writers' dinner out. I know I have to get fruit for myself on a regular basis, because otherwise I engage in fruitless pursuits. This is for fresh meat, vegetables, serious perishables, and all those sorts of things that shouldn't wind up in a staples shopping trip but do need to wind up happening. This is for little bits of bulk ingredients to make yet another batch of lunch-soup. This is for small non-essentials. This is for small essentials.

There are exceptions, but I survive.


[a poem without a muse. There are poems without muses crying in my heart, and I'm not sure where to find the words to sing them.]

[If you or your works catch my imagination, they will take root in my head and flower strange things; you may see me covered in petals; I may offer you a seed or a basket of the fruits.]


And you know, both elance and amberite write random Dr. Who, and I think their writing styles might make each other happy.


Nice warm stew is a good thing for getting one through the afternoon. I have a really weird meal schedule. Not as weird as it could be, I suppose.

Vatican gives 10 Commandments for drivers

Lessons for Life Your Momma Apparently Never Taught You (laundromat ettiquite)

OK. I have a nice long list of job numbers to be put in the damn yearly sheet, because the yearly sheet feeds into the monthly sheets. Oi.


  • Current Music