My matlab just crashed. With all I've worked on all day (it's after 9pm). I needed these graphs for a meeting that takes place tomorrow on 11am.
I somehow have to find the energy to begin running everything again. And the peace of mind to not wave my fist at the innocent monitor while shouting. I'm taking deep breaths.
Is Gud around? 'cause I'd really like a spin on that time machine of his now.
[Edited to try to take some comfort in numbers: 3²=9, which makes this post # evil-upside-down-with-numbers. Considering what I've written in that post, I should have known. And now I feel like I'm playing graphology-for-numbers, with "it looks like this, therefore its meaning is this"]
I hate days like today. I've been running around like a chicken since I got here, and somehow haven't done any actual work yet.
I need to look into that, I suppose, but maybe after lunch.
I'm back, too. And I skipped over 2000 messages, too.
On the way to California, I had my first experience with a flight attendant getting on the intercom and asking, "Is there a doctor on the plane?"
On the way back to Michigan, I had my first experience with a passenger not using caution when opening the overhead compartments, and his luggage fell on my head.
I may be suffering from post-con depression.
OK, we need to do today all over again.
All those in favor, try finding closed-time-like loop in the space-time continuum (that's what may make time travel possible).
Nilly, that sucks. Is there any way you can save what you're working on periodically, or is there just one big process that has to finish running?
Oh, Nilly, that stinks. I'm sorry.
I had a cupcake for breakfast. Unfortunately, I didn't really feel like a second one when I woke up, but now that I'm at work, I'm hungry. Also, I came in a bit late to work, but it's okay because I haven't seen my boss in two weeks. Does that make me better or worse or equal to sleepy interns? Also, I'm a tiny bit irritated because all the absence made my time sheet get turned in really late, so I won't be getting paid on time, and I'd really like my pay check.
ETA: Ha! Accidental nifty number. Also, sorry shrift. And Lee.
While waiting for my flight to Houston, there was a guy in the waiting area on his cell phone. His name was Spencer Hamilton. I know this, because he made approximately nine bajillion calls, attempting to enlist people in what sounded like a Mary-Kay-like scheme.
"This company is going public in eighteen months. Don't you want in on the ground floor? Because I'm not sleeping for the next eighteen months, and I'll be financially set for life."
"You pay $174, and I teach you how to be smart in business. Sure, you're selling Tahitian McGuffin Juice, but it's not about the juice."
"If Bill Gates had come to you and offered you stock options, would you have said yes?"
"Next year's convention is in Hollywood. I'm gonna be there, and you should be there too. I'm making $3,000 a month now, but by next year? $15,000 a month."
After an hour, I wanted to grab his phone and club him to death with it, and yet I couldn't stop listening.
All those in favor, try finding closed-time-like loop in the space-time continuum
I'll look behind the couch.
