And in the news of banality,
... my clothes dryer died earlier this evening. I decided the appropriate response was to imbibe a very good and large (650 ml)
beer while hanging the two loads of wet laundry in various locales around the house. I am almost done with the beer, and much of the laundry is already dry. Luckily, the dryer is on the house lease, so i guess the landlord will buy a new one.
Also in the world of commonplace happenings, i've just finished spreading a modified form of Borax all over the hose's floors and furniture. Hopefully, it will take care of the flea problem that sprung up (ugh OK, sorry, that was bad) about 4-5 weeks ago, and has kept me vacuuming and mopping seemingly to no avail.
About 3 weeks ago, i covered the floors and cats with Pyrethrum floor dust, and sprayed "beneficial" nematodes (microscopic worms) on the yard. (Which supposedly eat fleas, fire ants, and some other undesirable insects.) This did not really seem to help much at the time, and i none-to-happily (it's a bit artificially toxic for my tastes) moved on to Frontline for the cats about a week later. But perhaps the pyrethrum, at least on the floor, was just slow. The flea population seemed to have greatly dropped off after last Monday or so. And it was bad, bad, bad before that. As in, put my hand on the floor and i could see 5 small fleas turn towards it and leap! Creepy and just annoying as hell. ARGH.
But it's much better now. I may have gotten bit once earlier this evening, but i haven't seen any fleas, since.
I think today was my 180th day as a minion in the service of the State of Texas. (Again. This is my third time through the probationary period. Forth time to work at the Computation Center, or whatever it's currently called, and seventh job at UT. Some people just never learn.) And that (the 180th day) means my probation is over, and it's now a lot harder for them to fire me. Yay. I think. I mean, yay for jobs and having an income. And maybe i should i'd just re-listen to Ewan MacGreggor in the beginning of
Trainspotting: "Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit crushing game shows, stuffing junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life..."
Well, that's not exactly a cheery view of my current job, but you know, sifting through archaic data feeds from computers that still prefer EBCDIC (to ASCII), for problems with one of 70,000+ users in the system for which i am primarily responsible is not really how i imagined feathering my professional cap, so to speak. And for all that's HOLY did you know that there's an
EBCDIC port of Apache? I think i'm going to have to have another beer.
But i have a job, in what may be the worst economy this country has seen in 20 years, perhaps even 70. And i'm thoroughly grateful to have it. Really. Even if it does give me nightmares of the day that the student rag (for which i once (ironically) worked) publishes my picture just below the 300-point headline of
Here's the guy who runs that Geologically-Slow Web Application we all have to use and then thousands of aggravated faculty and painfully-young students chase me across campus with pitch forks and flaming torches, screaming, "GET HIM!!!!"
Well, OK, you're probably right. How many Profs can still run? And while we're on the subject, i just cannot imagine many of the trendy undergrads running in those crappy $1.99 flip-flops (for which they paid $12.99).
But still... it's not my fault!
I think it's time for that second beer. Crystal Method reminds me of Dr Who on Maryland Public Television, which i miss.
That is all.