You know, I don't think you should defend you choice to copy files from a folder named XYZ to XYZ FOLDER on account of that's what the request says.

Just oops and lets move on--your moral high ground is really weak since the two tickets before you managed to copy to XYZ and the instructions I attached to the request didn't actually have "folder" following "XYZ" directly at any time.

Does working in an ISP or data centre suck the life out of people and make them miserable and bitter? I fear these employees are dead inside and only wake from slumber periodically to lash out at customers before grumbling and reseating themselves in sour sleep.

That sounds nom, bt.

People are dumb, ita. This is my broad conclusion from having existed.

Liese, I'm going to have to agree with you there.

My project is oscillating. Over time, under time, fucked up, working faster...in theory, we need to be done before 9, and right now I have no idea if we will be. If you'd asked me ten minutes ago, I'd have said no. Two hours ago, I'd have said yes.

Computers, man.

Well, at least I'm getting sketching done...

Going with my neighbor to do the shopping that didn't happen yesterday. Thank god. It could wait, but it's nice to have this option.

Grace woke up breathing easier. But I have her on oxygen still. I feel pretty blessed that we have machinery just to hook her into. Yet, access to such makes it difficult to figure out what to do. If we didn't have two different oxygen delivery systems at home, we'd have to go to a hospital. But as it is, we can take of it and monitor her here.

I wish she weren't sick.

OMG, this project is almost finished, guys.

You have no *fucking* idea. It's easily the highest profile highest impact project I've had to usher across the finish line all by myself. And if we can just get over that last hurdle of last minute randomness...I could be off to the ER in half an hour. I can think of nothing other than fixing this headache.

Good thing I wrote my acceptance speech a long time ago when I was much more awake. I've been dozing off and jerking back awake for hours, inbetween yelling at data centre employees, drawing fanart, and working out contingency plans.

And the business user performing acceptance testing has just told me he's been testing the old system for the past twenty minutes.

I hope it worked!

FUCK.

Shit isn't working. My head is caving in. I can't leave my control centre. I can't fix anything.

Uhg.

When I woke up this morning, I had a momentary panic because my neck ached and my butt and legs were sore, and I so don't need another knock-me-out cold. But then I remembered I'd walked 3 miles carrying booze, at a brisk clip. Oh yeah. That.

I don't know how to tell my manager I can't do this anymore. I'm just sitting here and crying.

Damn, ita !, I'm so sorry. If there were someone to smite on your behalf, you'd have an army of smiters at your command. Which does nothing to help you where you are now, I know.