Sunday, February 6, 2011

A Crawling Sensation Between the Shoulder Blades.

What is it about this work that means we can't take a day off once in a while? You really do have to love it.

A few brief notes on the day's impressions.

I signed up for Tweetdeck last night, set it up, fooled around with it a while, and then shut it down. This morning, I fired the thing up and was learning the system, which as anyone who has used it knows, is actually fairly simple.

I noted that Gary Moore, the guitarist for 'Thin Lizzie,' died in his sleep in Spain or whatever, and like a dummy I clicked on the thing and began a 'new search.'

Oh, wow. Holy, crap! The updates were flying in thick as flies on a fresh baby blanket...the little doo-wop alarm was going boing-boing-boing, boing-boing-boing, BOING!

The effin' pane or window that popped up each and every time was right over the upper right-hand tool icons....boing-boing-POP! It's one thing to just turn the audio down, but...

I had to click on the 'x' in the left hand corner of each and every new pane, and then quickly try to get at my wrench and them updates were just going like sick. Just sick.

...and I could't shut the effin' thing down. It was like trying to break missile lock and maybe you left it a bit too late already....oh, Jesus, I don't know what happened, but I broke the lock and went into silent running. As soon as I popped my effin' head back up over the horizon, the bastards locked me right up again, and I had to go nap-of-the-earth for a while. Effin' piss me off!

I took that thing all apart, disinstalled it, and set it up all again, but it started right up as soon as I launched. Note: should have gone to the home page and deleted my account, but it's okay because I eventually managed to zap the friggin' thing. Deleting my account might have entailed using some variation on my name, a different password. I don't know. (Who knows?)

To make a long story short, all I had to do was to delete that particular column...and I don't know, ah; maybe make an appointment with the optometrist.

I don't know what the hell happened there, ladies and gentlemen, but ah; I figure epileptics have gone 'grand mal' and died in that thing...

The last three or four days were actually kind of relaxing, but some real stress is lurking below the surface.

I have to go and get some tea bags or something.

A vacation would be ever so nice.

UPDATE: Yeah, I just found a missing word in one of my own recent submissions. That irks me, but I am definitely working too hard. It's already next week. (00:13 a.m. Monday morning.)

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