January 07, 2013

On the Unproven Theory That Venting Actually Works...

So it's back to work. The party's over. Our long national daydream has ended. Reminder to self: "Will work for charitable giving purposes."

The weather has taken a very ugly turn. Florida and NM trips did not acclimate me well to 25 degrees. (Cue violins.) But this is the new normal so I best get used to it.

Frustrations at work, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention. The crappy P program blew up again - second straight quarter. Paid for my sin of just fixing the particular policy last time instead of identifying the root cause. But then it's not my program, although 99% of ownership is simply a question of need. If you need a program to work, then you're on the hook regardless of who wrote it or ostensibly owns it.

So I added missing rates using my dog-slow computer that made me unplug the machine for rebootive purposes twice.

Got home and couldn't get the flipping laptop to connect to 'net because it turns out there's a nob that you switch in order to turn on and off wireless. A hardware switch. Absolutely drove me crazy.

Lost my earbud for the umpteenth time. I understand the physics of it - that pressure in my jeans pocket can make it come off, but really would it be so hard for it to stay put within the pocket? I always look for it in the pocket after it's gone and it's never there. I've tried gluing the damn things on. I feel like buying 10,000 of the nubs just so I don't have to be held hostage to the buggers.

(Cue violins.)


Interesting to hear Johnny Cash pull off the seemingly difficult task of performing a song about San Quentin to an audience of prisoners at San Quentin. Seems a tad presumptuous, something a more white collar type guy couldn't pull off. Cash sure was a man's man wasn't he? To sing songs to prisoners and maintain the tough guy image... Though he didn't go too much out on a limb by singing lines like, "San Quentin, I hate every inch of you."


I tumblr'd a bit tonight and also took in some fascinating pictures via Atlantic magazine of that ultimately foreign place- the place that may as well be the moon - North Korea. It made me want to find out more about where my daughter-in-law came from, what city in South Korea and to trace her lineage. It made me simultaneously sad and happy for my grandchildren that they won't know their maternal biological grandparents. Sad for obvious reasons but happy because despite our protestations we humans crave mystery. We love the that there's something uncharted for us to search for. I have a grandmother who died before I was born and feel close to her somehow nonetheless. I pray for her, maybe she prays for me.

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