hcolleen inquires what I am still doing up. It is a weekend.
"Your sleep schedule is fucked," she informs me.
"My sleep schedule depends on 26 hour days," I let her know.
She pauses, thinks. "We don't have those," she decides.
"I WANT AN UPGRADE!" I ask in the most reasonable tone of voice.
"Not available!" she says smugly.
"I NEED A MANAGER!" I inquire.
"WHO PAYS YOU?!"
"Who said I got paid?"
Called Darkside. Someone else is up too late. We're both going to bed. He stayed up until 4am gaming.
I love it when customers' domains redirect (voluntarily!) to things that get blocked by WebSense as being illegal or shady.
Upcoming: something about Twitter vs. IRC, and how they're filling some of the same needs in different ways.
Flight #2 is booked. So is the hotel room. Advised best friend that vacation was imminent. Had to remind him of when his 10-year high school reunion was, in relative terms to mine, which I am skipping. (Though I am getting homesick for Alaska. The area code is starting to make me mist up again.)
A customer's website had a warning page. A much-needed one, as the activities described in relation to the e-book being peddled there went from vanilla, to interesting, to sketchy, to way beyond safe-sane-and-consensual. I phrased it like that, and the eyebrows of the New Girl went up. I could feel a conversational thread hanging. She casually mentioned (at least an hour later) that she had a card to give me. "Related to ... ?" "Yeah." "Thought so." Hooray coded verbal flags.