I hope they find something easy to fix, Teppy.

I have many complaints about my job, but the UPres just announced that we are getting summer Fridays (off at noon), and 22 holidays next year, so I will try to say nice things today.

Oh, god, I got a call from work at 6AM telling me a system was down, and asking what to do next. I asked if he realised I'd been out sick for the past two days, and if he'd tried the admin/developer (who's in the central time zone, BTW) and that was a no and a no. He did hang up, but called back at 6:20, because he couldn't find the developer. I walked him through some checks, but he asked me questions I don't know how I was supposed to answer from bed, which is clearly where I was, and he wasn't using all the information he had to hand either, including his brain.

Differential diagnosis kids--it's not just for the pros anymore. Or, rather, you're a pro now. Use it. Our manager did tell him to leave me alone.

My goal is to come back online to the office this afternoon, but I'm pretty wiped right now.

Oh, the chattiness of men of a certain age. Hubby will talk the ear off perfect strangers, and if those strangers are men his age or older, they're happy to chatter right back at him. I have spent many a visit to the supermarket trading sympathetic looks with someone else's wife as our husbands, who have never met, trade observations on health, politics, and what's wrong with today's kids. I'm not sure how women got this reputation for being hopeless chatterboxes. Maybe the womenfolk in the cave would be talking a lot, but I bet they were making clothes or prepping food. I can just picture a bunch of mammoth hunters leaning on their spears out in the brush, talking about how hard it is to find game and did you see what Og's daughter was wearing.

My dad loves talking to people. Many times we'd we waiting after church for my dad so we could go home, and there would just be our car and one other car (belonging to the guy my dad was talking to) in the church parking lot.

Ugh. A former colleague sent me a resume for someone she knows who is looking at some positions in my company and asked that I try to steer it up the line. First off, the email chain referenced like nine jobs that she was interested in. Really? Plus the resume is an eye-bleeding mix of fonts, capitalization, and even red text. And her degree(s) are from online and/or marginally accredited places.

The person who made the ask is someone I like and respect, so I'm taking it on faith that this person is actually a lot better than they come off. (The person is also from Dubai, so that may explain the online degrees and possibly different cultural expectations re what a resume should look like.) But come on.

Also, I need a lifehack. How do I stop the zippers on my boots from jangling so loud? I don't usually notice but in the quiet of the office it's really obvious.

wrap masking tape around the zipper tabs.

Interview over. Went okay, maybe, but I am a bundle of nerves now. Ugh.

brenda -- wrap a little bit of color-coordinated yarn through the hole in the zipper tabs? Or masking tape on the underside of the tabs, so that it doesn't show?

Treat yourself, -t. "Went okay, maybe" deserves it. Hell, finishing it without being run out of town deserves it.

Colin is pathologically sociable. If you're ever trying to leave anywhere, don't let him out of your sight. He will talk to anyone about anything until a third party stops it. And now that complete strangers have a reason to talk to him, it's way worse. You gotta Ferguson-pad now. Twenty years ago, I never guessed it would be a) something that would still affect my life and b) worse now.