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azurelunatic: Vivid pink Alaskan wild rose. (Default)
Woke up after 7 hours sleep. (Went to bed an hour late.)

Dream had featured rope-climbing, weird buildings on one of the blocks around home. Wood pile sort of construction in a shed, and we'd climbed up and had to get down. There were ropes that we were climbing down, and the wood or plants had all turned into nasty composty rubbishy muck. Obso1337 Super was there. He also happened to be about 8 months pregnant. This was a perfectly normal thing according to the dream. There was no backstory; it just was. Upon waking up, my first thoughts were along the lines of "WTF?!" and my second thoughts were probably very amused.

Obso1337 Super seems to think that the pair of search terms "womens" "testicles" turning up a crazy number of hits means that women have testicles. I attempted to explain to him that he was using two separate search strings, not one single one, and therefore his results meant jack. He is Always Right, though, in addition to being male and 40-ish, so nothing's going to change his clothes the mind he's already made up. This was probably a contributing factor to said dream. Nothing says mpreg like women's testicles.

Have been noticing a disturbing technical trend. Wrote it up for the workplace. Hope to hear back on it. Darkside will viciously mock one of the pieces of code involved.

Came in for my shift as scheduled. Since my social life revolves around
  1. time with Darkside
  2. writing group
  3. LJ
  4. #lj_support
and none of those were conflicting with work, I elected to remain for the second shift.

There is general bogglement over the UnF spreadsheet. The thing is cracktacular, and will be more so after I wind up customizing it for each team. It looks complex at first glance, but really it is not entirely. I realize that $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB has a lot more paperwork than some jobs. I wound up customizing the Team 1 version of the UnF spreadsheet. I left it in their folder for them to play with.

Snarky Lady has started calling me Joanie, and it is spreading. (She started this because the Old Gum Lady Phone Goon calls me that. The Old Gum Lady Phone Goon likes me. It's good to be liked.) It almost feels like home. Added to that is the fact that some of the new people and temps are starting to wonder if I live there... Pink Shirt Guy said that I might as well.

It is entirely bizarre that my entire department is looking up to me as the Tech Person. I can troubleshoot most of the common problems of the department! If not, it is not usual that someone else can fix it. I am already reasonably proficient with entry-level dialer puzzles.

Next Sunday will be another potluck. This time, we must explicitly #include Comic Pirate Super. He was not called properly last time.

A day.

May. 21st, 2006 12:51 am
azurelunatic: Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album cover: a prism splitting a beam of light.  (Dark Side of the Moon)
Work tends to leave me feeling exhausted and drained, sometimes, no matter what kind of a day I had.

Today was an eleven hour shift (for me) featuring two dialer crashes, followed up by an invasion of IT guys taking over the network at 6pm. On the other hand, now pretty much everyone in the building knows how to get on the OMG DIALER DOWNTIME contingency screen in our automated timeclock. They have also gotten experience dialing the old-fashioned way: by hand. Get the next record from the queue, turn on your bloody phone, dial, hang up after 4 rings, get a new record, repeat.

To improve morale, I stalked up and down my areas in the Darth Vader mask for a few minutes, causing some of the phone goons to go into near-hyperventilating states of laughter.

Stressy College Chick doesn't think I caused the first crash.

I got to write up the dialer crash e-mails. I also had a chance to work on my Unified Field Spreadsheet, which is going to virtually eliminate the time working up the individual end-of-shift job status forms, because all the information that goes on the status winds up going on what has been dubbed the TPS report. (There was an Office Space-inspired practical joke phase where people kept telling other people that they'd have to start filling out TPS reports/accusing them of not doing theirs and getting scolded for it; this was followed up by a new spreadsheet to fill out. Since it didn't have much of a name, it got dubbed the TPS report.) I think I shall call it the UnF Spreadsheet for spr0t for short. (Pervs. ;)

Vocabulary word of the day (week?) at work: "defiant". Stressy College Chick called Rev. Not-So-Nice Supervisor defiant, then realized that she didn't really have a good grasp on what it meant. So she asked me. I explained. She concluded that yes, he is, and it's a damn cool word to boot!

Today Rev. Not-so-nice super started attempting to track Trendy Chick's cussing. He spaced it after a while, but before he stopped counting, she'd cussed about 19 times, not counting "pissed off" and a few other things.

I shall call the new trainee supervisor who has the same initials as I do "AL", because while those aren't my actual meatspace initials, they're my initials online. Oddly enough, while I respond to my meatspace initials, I don't react the same way to "AL". So, she will be AL for the moment. No, there is no Sam. (...Nor Captain what's-his-face./Nor Frodo. ...though at one point there was thought of calling Homie G Super "Sam" and Cute Short Chick's brother "Frodo", and I made [livejournal.com profile] othercat totally giggle by suggesting supervisor RPS, which was just wrong.)

Tomorrow may be a doughnuts/muffins morning.

I have been cleaning my iTunes and re-finding music that had the files moved without leaving a forwarding address. Much happiness. Lots of my R.E.M. got lost in the shuffle, and I've been slowly but surely re-finding it. These songs are essential to me.

Morning happens soon. I go bed.

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azurelunatic: Vivid pink Alaskan wild rose. (Default)
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