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SATAN DRIVES TO WORK

 
  Ow! What? No. Wait- Shit. Yes. Ow!

23 October 1998


Today is Itchy & Scratchy day for some reason. Not the wacky animated pets, the annoying traveling compulsive body sensations. If it's not my ankle, it's the back of my head, or it's under my right shoulder blade just slightly out of reach, or it's the lower left front part of my torso, or ... well you get the idea. It's not lice, thanks. There's no rash or anything, in the parts I can visibly inspect, anyway. I just itch.

I think it's all mental. I've been colicky all day. I woke up early and just decided not to get up. I don't really know why. And even when it got to be a more normal time, I thought about it a little and then said "Fuck it" and went back to sleep again. Honest, there's no thought process that I'm aware of going on here. I'm not having any kind of internal dialogue. I could make some up, I can imagine some possible pissy reasoning that might be involved, but I'd just be guessing. Consciousness is not all that privileged in my brain these days. I suppose that's only fair - after all, look at its track record.

Then when I finally did leave the house, I got to a couple blocks away from the train stop, and saw the train leaving, again I just said "Fuck it", turned right around and walked back up Fillmore to Squat & Gobble to have brunch. This was at 3 PM, mind you, already an hour after the time I most usually arrive. I wasn't even that hungry.

Once I finally did stroll in, around 4, the day proved to be another round of Guess What's Broken? like yesterday. All these various scripts and pieces of the site are turning out to just not work at all, and didn't anybody TEST any of this crap? am I the only one around here who cares at all about this? and etc. etc. high-horse etc. No, nobody did test it, the project has been managed in a half-ass way, but it wasn't like someone had me bound & gagged in a corner the whole time. I could have said something if I had wanted to - if I had thought to do so. But of course, I didn't, because it was easier to just cruise along with my own bit.

That line of thinking has its predictable ends, about not being capable of running anything full-scale, of always doing a half-assed job. Believe me, spend a day buried in code that you wrote 3 years ago, you will get absolute proof of the quality of your work. Or lack thereof. Shudder.

So it's just natural that on top of all of this, my goddamn head won't stop itching, and the noise of that air conditioner is driving me out of my fucking mind, and who put this inane techno crap on anyway? Hulk Smash!


Time to go book shopping, I guess.

This would all be much more interesting if it had more than one character.




Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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