March 11th, 2002

You must be joking

Hot metal in the sun, pony in the air

Right. So what was it about today? I can't decide. It's probably PMS, because I have been all over the goddamn map today. Earlier, I couldn't decide whether I was upset over not getting necessary things done (like the cattery), or over the deeply piddling nature of the things I was getting done (look, Ma, I "finished" the laundry by taking that last load from Wednesday out of the dryer, folding and putting it away. Ovation, please). And then I was upset because Samba was foiling my best efforts to debug it remotely, under pressure. Then I decided to work myself into a frenzy because Dora is getting noticeably thin (despite a good appetite), and I succeeded in convincing myself that she was likely to die, if not tonight when I'm not home, this weekend when I'm not home. Which neatly tied into financial issues, or why I can't just haul her into Adobe for a total workup. At which point I completely broke, for about five minutes.

And then I managed to get myself out of the house (mostly by dint of repeating "I'll be home tomorrow night"), and things stopped looking quite so bad. I even paused at the post office (which 10 minutes previously had seemed like far too big an expenditure of time, given I was trying to get into Ponte to fix broken Samba) and finished renting a post office box. Now I have a safe address to feed NSI and others who want to splatter my mailing address all over the Internet. Call me paranoid if you like -- it's true.

Anyway, made it into Ponte in record time (there's just nothing like driving a reverse commute) to find that Samba was well and happy once Richard had removed the ':w' I had accidentally appended to a key line in the config file (typing over Ponte's slow link with time pressure). Argh!

I have now spent the past ~3 hours beating on an intractible IMAP problem. I'm going to go pick up yohannon at SJC now. And I'm not editing this for publication; it's just going live. Enjoy. Have a nice night.
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