Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-13 12:50 am
azurelunatic) wrote2015-02-13 12:50 am
Werewolves shouldn't wear boxer-briefs.
I went to sleep at a vaguely sensible time, but made the mistake of checking email when I woke up in the middle of the night and getting back to sleep was not coming easily. There were some shenanigans that involved the helldesk software, and while there was a chance it was user error, it was an equal or greater chance that it was helldesk. That made me spitting mad, but fortunately when I stripped off my nightgown to start getting dressed to stomp into work, my body got the idea and said "actually no, sleep sounds good." So I curled back up in bed and had some very confusing dreams. It was good that I'd refueled the night before, because I zombied in somewhat slower than I'd hoped.
My inbox was not on fire when I got in, so I was able to ping Purple for lunch soonish. He decided to join me in a bit, and the table was large and raucous.
The 13:00 meeting was a bit bikesheddy, and I think that the Commandant is getting a bit overshadowed by Haystack. I think that I will avoid being on committees with Haystack if I can avoid it. (This despite Haystack being Elsewhere at this time.)
Any meeting in which "Are we going to be dropping acid at this event, then?" is a question, is possibly an interesting meeting.
The web crew is learning that the rather obvious-seeming FAQ section on the old website was there for a reason.
The meeting ended, and I traipsed off to cancel the team meeting, as the meeting was going to be a chat with a person from another organization, and he was out sick. So everyone got their hour back.
Lunch had been sort of insufficient, so I pinged #cupcake and wound up doing a milkshake run with radius. We talked computers we have known. He's in the same general age bracket as Purple and Nora, maybe a little older. He has a wicked, wicked sense of humor, and managed once to get a -1 day bluescreen on Windows 95. He remains fighting the good fight about OWA. I showed off some of the building signage that had been going up yesterday. I was not responsible for the budget, but I certainly did kick off the process, and I am proud of that.
The actual tasks of the day didn't stick too far into my head. It felt mostly reactive and inbox-based. Eventually Purple pinged me and I wrapped up around the time he arrived. He picked cinnamon dots to munch on the way out to the parking lot.
Someone had left two of the little oatmeal cookies in a cup on the team table in the morning. By evening, there was only one left. Purple mentioned the only place to really get your hands on them reliably (ground floor of the execs' building) and speculated about the reasons. "Plus no one actually sits on that floor," I pointed out. It's mostly-all conference rooms. Then we speculated about what might be in the executive break kitchen, and I pictured a 7pm R&D raid on said kitchen (after all the execs have gone home).
Any morning where you wake up and take stock of yourself and go "I did not go to sleep wearing this, and I don't even think this is my ball gown!" has got to have been a wild night. Some people wake up after the full moon wearing the shreds of whatever they were wearing when the full moon hit them, or whatever they were wearing to bed that night. Some people have to go only by unexpected bruises and extra hairiness, due to their sensible werewolf pajamas. I started wearing nightengowns again in Arizona after the Night The Ceiling Rained, and other stories involving me popping out the bedroom wearing just a sheet.
Not all ten-year-olds can tackle their dad around his knees and lift him in the air.
Tomorrow will be Friday, a non-bash day.
My inbox was not on fire when I got in, so I was able to ping Purple for lunch soonish. He decided to join me in a bit, and the table was large and raucous.
The 13:00 meeting was a bit bikesheddy, and I think that the Commandant is getting a bit overshadowed by Haystack. I think that I will avoid being on committees with Haystack if I can avoid it. (This despite Haystack being Elsewhere at this time.)
Any meeting in which "Are we going to be dropping acid at this event, then?" is a question, is possibly an interesting meeting.
The web crew is learning that the rather obvious-seeming FAQ section on the old website was there for a reason.
The meeting ended, and I traipsed off to cancel the team meeting, as the meeting was going to be a chat with a person from another organization, and he was out sick. So everyone got their hour back.
Lunch had been sort of insufficient, so I pinged #cupcake and wound up doing a milkshake run with radius. We talked computers we have known. He's in the same general age bracket as Purple and Nora, maybe a little older. He has a wicked, wicked sense of humor, and managed once to get a -1 day bluescreen on Windows 95. He remains fighting the good fight about OWA. I showed off some of the building signage that had been going up yesterday. I was not responsible for the budget, but I certainly did kick off the process, and I am proud of that.
The actual tasks of the day didn't stick too far into my head. It felt mostly reactive and inbox-based. Eventually Purple pinged me and I wrapped up around the time he arrived. He picked cinnamon dots to munch on the way out to the parking lot.
Someone had left two of the little oatmeal cookies in a cup on the team table in the morning. By evening, there was only one left. Purple mentioned the only place to really get your hands on them reliably (ground floor of the execs' building) and speculated about the reasons. "Plus no one actually sits on that floor," I pointed out. It's mostly-all conference rooms. Then we speculated about what might be in the executive break kitchen, and I pictured a 7pm R&D raid on said kitchen (after all the execs have gone home).
Any morning where you wake up and take stock of yourself and go "I did not go to sleep wearing this, and I don't even think this is my ball gown!" has got to have been a wild night. Some people wake up after the full moon wearing the shreds of whatever they were wearing when the full moon hit them, or whatever they were wearing to bed that night. Some people have to go only by unexpected bruises and extra hairiness, due to their sensible werewolf pajamas. I started wearing nightengowns again in Arizona after the Night The Ceiling Rained, and other stories involving me popping out the bedroom wearing just a sheet.
Not all ten-year-olds can tackle their dad around his knees and lift him in the air.
Tomorrow will be Friday, a non-bash day.