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It's a wet, wet Thursday...
Dec. 13th, 2014 12:56 amWednesday afternoon, it was made abundantly clear by my workplace and department that everyone who could stay home Thursday, should. Plus it was not the greatest money week, and I needed to refuel before another 60-mile commute. So home I stayed.
I am a little uncomfortable with being considered indispensable in the running of an event which is supposed to be infinite and not tied to any particular person. I suspect that in my absence, people could bumble through my notes about what we did. I still want people to be aware of this better.
That said, the meeting about the thing was good, and I called into it. Yay.
Helldesk software is being helly. Thursday was the day when my quasi-helpdesk-level access to the thing went away. I tried to follow the instructions to subscribe myself to arbitrary tickets, during the course of trying to sort the tickets from lb's Overlady's list. The process drove me nearly to tears.
And then, of course, I discovered that the high winds had at some point in the past 24 hours knocked out the pilot light on my gas fireplace. As a matter of course, I do in fact keep my patio door open a few inches and have an exhaust fan running while I'm at home. I didn't smell gas near the fireplace, nor did I smell a difference when poking my head outside, nor did I have a headache, nor had the CO alarm gone off, nor was my skin any redder than it ought to be. So I opened the panel under the unit, looked at the control, Google image searched for something similar, followed it back home, did some further search refinements, and eventually got it first turned off and then re-lit. Which was excessively exciting.
By the time that was done, I was no longer feeling up to the emotional ordeal of beating myself against the docs until I was in High Dudgeon and then calling helpdesk in that state. I had also had a conversation with Tay which in retrospect I should have seen coming, but the alternative was not taking her at her word, and I'm really bad with certain kinds of evasiveness. She'll be headed back to Seattle imminently. I'd been getting used to the idea of having her around, and I'll miss her.
I am a little uncomfortable with being considered indispensable in the running of an event which is supposed to be infinite and not tied to any particular person. I suspect that in my absence, people could bumble through my notes about what we did. I still want people to be aware of this better.
That said, the meeting about the thing was good, and I called into it. Yay.
Helldesk software is being helly. Thursday was the day when my quasi-helpdesk-level access to the thing went away. I tried to follow the instructions to subscribe myself to arbitrary tickets, during the course of trying to sort the tickets from lb's Overlady's list. The process drove me nearly to tears.
And then, of course, I discovered that the high winds had at some point in the past 24 hours knocked out the pilot light on my gas fireplace. As a matter of course, I do in fact keep my patio door open a few inches and have an exhaust fan running while I'm at home. I didn't smell gas near the fireplace, nor did I smell a difference when poking my head outside, nor did I have a headache, nor had the CO alarm gone off, nor was my skin any redder than it ought to be. So I opened the panel under the unit, looked at the control, Google image searched for something similar, followed it back home, did some further search refinements, and eventually got it first turned off and then re-lit. Which was excessively exciting.
By the time that was done, I was no longer feeling up to the emotional ordeal of beating myself against the docs until I was in High Dudgeon and then calling helpdesk in that state. I had also had a conversation with Tay which in retrospect I should have seen coming, but the alternative was not taking her at her word, and I'm really bad with certain kinds of evasiveness. She'll be headed back to Seattle imminently. I'd been getting used to the idea of having her around, and I'll miss her.
