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of corrupt files and insistent cats

2005-03-30 - 5:30 p.m.

Such major props to R for his wonderful, supportive and completely unsolicited comment in the guest book. Sweetie, you are my sunshine! But not my only sunshine, as that would offend the cat.

Little Mistress Fur has decided that someone needs to take order in the house, and now starts bitching at us to go up to bed and go to sleep already! starting at around 8 pm. We hold fast to our principals and do not give in. I've already lost the fight of the immortal love affair between Thistle and the faucet. Every morning and every night, she perches upon my sink and makes sweet sweet love to the faucet, hoping for an ejaculatory spray of fresh water. Lately I've been giving in and setting the faucet on a trickle for her. This morning we went through the typical morning ritual ("Oh, faucet, you are my best friend and I love you so much! Even better than Mom and Dad, let me rub my face against you multiple times!"). Then, as I traipsed down the stairs to get my shoes, she shot past me like some sort of hellbeast and scrambled up onto the sink in the downstairs bathroom, and started up with her plaintive meowsing. Baggage!

Work has been going somewhat better; we're entering into a calmer period. Still, last night when I should have been merrily bouncing out the door, I was instead stuck dealing with a stubborn file. R called and talked me through it while making dinner plans. I was initially unsure what the problem was, as I had renamed the file and it just refused to upload. I then decided just to screw it and reload the file from the source. "It's probably corrupt," R. said. "How does a file become corrupted?" I asked. While he went on some long technobabbly screed, I imagined my poor file being faced with temptation and sin. It was a weak file, and became a minion of Satan. It was my mission to expunge the corrupted file and put in a clean, pure file. Sure enough, it worked. Maybe this is a new career for me. Maybe I can become a faith-healer for corrupted files. I can talk them down from the ledge, provide them spiritual succor in their times of need. Little bastards.

 

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