Into The Miserable
To tie some things up after the weekend: Yes, I went into the office for three hours on Sunday. Seemed like a good idea at the time, although I have to watch that I'm not spacing out late on a Friday afternoon and thinking, well I can put this mind numbing little task off for now and come back in to take care of it over the weekend. When my head is clear. And there are no distractions. I've done this in my past lives. Don't want to repeat it in this one. I wrote a single email during those three hours that I was too tired to write on Friday and I think from the results it might have been worth it. It was a good hard three hours that resulted in four short paragraphs.
I said I was going to set the Nikons to automatically rewind when the 36th frame is exposed. I did it just now. Mumble. Should have done it two years ago. Mumble.
The youngster is nine months old. Big for his age. Andre, who's discussing Ethernet technology with him in the photograph above, has him by a good six years. We techies often look older than we really are. I, for example, am nineteen, old for an IT employee, but young for this wider, more jaded world around me.
Let's see, some other things. With the car now running I finally bought Wuss a sack of the finest clump
by the numbers kitty litter at the local pet store, since the delivery truck drivers at Safeway are on strike and I didn't feel like crossing their picket lines. I am considering getting rid of the automatic kitty litter model and going back to manual. The guy upstairs uses some new wonder stuff that I noticed at the pet store, white, that you buy by the sack, pour all of it into the litter box and then replace it every month. It doesn't clump, but slowly turns yellow over time until it's ready to be replaced. You use the scoop to remove the usual solid subjects. Looks funny, but the damned stuff works. No real odors, no mess, no hassles. Surprising. Nine ninety nine for a sack at the local pet store, of course, but I suspect I can buy it for less over the net. Get a twelve pack for Christmas. A twelve pack of sacks. This is dribbling well into the miserable, isn't it? Kitty litter. Mumble.
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