Comment-then-delete has changed from a mostly non-public way of contacting someone to an absolutely insecure way of contacting someone, due to the possibility of subscription notifications.

Apple on DRM

Follow-up on the existential confusion picture: You Might Be A Prostitute: ...
Related: Australia's government has the good sarcasm.

*dies* A love meme led me to buttfacemakani's artwork, most specifically, Hermione about to commit fanfic.

My eyes are all goopy, in ways I haven't experienced since the last time I had pinkeye, which was at about age 12 or so. But my eyes aren't all red or -- *checks mirror* -- well, damn. I'm seeing a little bit of inflammation there, I sure am. So! I'll be playing "let's not touch my roommate" for a while, and she's going to be playing "let's be really careful to wash hands at all times" for a while. I'm hoping that it's only that I'm up rather late and I've had a stressful week and there's probably an eyelash in my eye or something, because pinkeye is annoying. And I do get goopy eyes when I'm supposed to be asleep. (And hcolleen just looked at my eyes and thinks just tired, unless I wake up and they're crusted closed.)

I just worked 4.25 hours and came home today, since I'd gone overboard on Monday, preparing for the meeting. I'm trying without success to remember the absolutely vile pun that I shared with Pink Shirt Guy's counterpart this morning, because it was gnarly and LJ deserves to hear it, because I love LJ enough to share the pun-ishment. But all I remember is telling her that as a matter of fact, I will pun without mercy if given the slightest encouragement.

On Thursday before the meeting with my great-grandboss, I wound up helping out K-Bone with a database issue. I was rather stunned that she didn't know what a type mismatch was. I look around me at work and I see all these people with all kinds of fantastic talent, and that makes me very happy, but it's also unnerving to realize that my place in the hierarchy is computer and data related. I really don't necessarily want to be "the geek". That's a little beyond my comfort level. I'd rather be a geek among geeks, of equal or lesser skill. To that end, I wind up up-training those around me, so I don't have to keep giving them advice on what a computer is and how to use it.

Pink Shirt Guy, in the few months that he's had me as an assistant, has suddenly stopped fearing spreadsheets. He's been a devoted pencil-and-paper guy for the past 30 years, and was fairly firmly committed to staying this way until he either retired or dropped over dead. Suddenly he's started having spreadsheets of his own devising blossom all over around him. This pleases me beyond all reason, because all I really showed him how to do was the basic formula, and then answered questions about UI and making things easier. The next step, of course, will be to get him comfortable with importing flat text files.

After finishing up the paperwork, I walked back home, read for a while, then visited my happy bank to make sure that I got the "hey, you've been with us for three years" bonus thing taken care of. I got quarters too, because the teller was so flaming and cute. Then I went back home and collapsed in a heap in bed, finished the book I was reading, took off my glasses and my phone, and went to sleep.

There I stayed until I woke up. I didn't even realize that hcolleen had gotten home until I was cussing at the router and messing with it, and usually I at least register that she's home when she gets here. Had to reboot the cable modem and the wireless router, because things were not going well with them, and it would not resolve certain addresses. Grouch. Then I hung out on IRC and read fic and all that good stuff.

And now it's time for bed again.