the latter part of the evening

swallowtayle called.
I did laundry.
I retrieved hcolleen from work.
(There were cops blocking the parking lot.)
I called Darkside. ♥ Pun is fun. Time to rhyme.
Dawn called.
I got my shower and mostly ready for bed.
I wandered over to hang out with smmc and the smaller angel of destruction :D for a while. Cable for the chipmunks! SPACESHIP TREE OF DOOM!! Spiderman vs. the tape. Barney vs. the jump rope. (omg, that was so cracktastic; Mama was so upset with us.) Good times.

work.

Whee, sinus-dizzy.

I really want to knock off and take a nap, as predicted. I'll see if I can get away with that, or something. Or go home early.

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Ooo, what's this? A can of worms! I wonder what's inside?

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Looks like I have a new "little project". One system is not agreeing with another system. Again. But it's a different system this time. Fortunately for me, I know what records to provide/demand, and how to see through much database-related bullshit. (Also, while I may be an end-user so far as this DB team is concerned, I'm *clueful*.)

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Pink Shirt Guy is out today. This means I get to do some big scary spreadsheets all by myselves. I just printed out one report like a half-million times because the UI baffled me.

Lead Sinus Attack.

It already feels like a too-long day. I'm so glad that I can sit at the computer and do things for an unspecified length of time, or I'd be sooooo deadish.

I've been at work six hours. Six hours is not much in the grander scheme of a day, is it? It feels like it's both dragged and passed so fast, because my head is not connected to reality. It's on account of congestion, not on account of medication.

This sucks.

Belfry.

(Slightly expanded version of a documentation e-mail sent just now.)

I had started to wander out of my little office to ask Pink Shirt Guy's counterpart if there was anything else for me to do, when a random sketchy-looking individual appeared at the door of the training rooms and began looking inside with the same look on her face as the look on the face of a hen who is trying to calculate the leaping distance necessary to fly up on the table. I asked if I could help her with anything. She asked me if there was a way onto the roof.

When I said no, she asked me if the building had an attic. I told her no. She asked me if I was sure. I assured her that I was sure. I exited the training rooms and closed the locking door behind me. She looked disappointed and went back in the interviewing area.

I asked the Princess if the building had a way onto the roof, and/or an attic. She thought not, and identified the interviewer for me. Pink Shirt Guy's counterpart joined the conversation at this point, and mentioned that there is maintenance access to the roof, and a crawl space in the drop ceiling, but no attic. In any case, interviewers are not permitted access to the roof or crawl space.

I advised Homie G. of the encounter, as he is the shift lead for the night.