And then there was the guy who "recreated" our document styles in LaTeX, rather than just sending us a Word file or PDF. Good times, good times.

Ages ago, when word processing was still new, after I'd saved a file and done a print-out for review, the guy reviewing it did a CUT AND PASTE-UP of the print-out. So I had to go in and rekey the whole thing all over again. (of course, he didn't understand why I was a bit, shall we say, short with him)

The next person to point me to a news story, and then show me how much more sensitive he is by writing "Where's the outrage?" is going to meet my new Louisville Slugger, Outrage. I'm just saying.(and it's always the same guy, too,the kind of old libertine that wants to show how he "loves all women" by looking meaningfully at my tits.) Because there's just so much *crap* every day that I have to act intellectual about some of it, or I'd be prowling around here like Alanis on Heisenberg's finest(more than I do, that is)

The next person to point me to a news story, and then show me how much more sensitive he is by writing "Where's the outrage?" is going to meet my new Louisville Slugger, Outrage.

Right on. I always want to ask "How do you know there isn't outrage?" But what he means is, why haven't the Jacobins risen up and stormed the bastions of whatever outrage-inducing person/event/thing it is that day. Just because his FB feed isn't filled with people screaming about it doesn't mean people don't give a shit. Perhaps it's just that they think gnashing their virtual teeth about it on FB isn't really meaningful change.

I always get a feeling of "How dare you not be outraged at what I'm outraged at (even if it's faux outrage)! What do you mean you spent your outrage on something that outraged you that I didn't know about! How can you not have infinite outrage!"

Both b and c.(with a little mansplanation, and being from the Era that Knew How To Protest Properly thrown in.(save me from FOFs.) Although, at the same time, he has a point, but I'm not like the Tea Party...George Soros is not giving me a ride so I can storm the castle where I don't even have to plan anything or feed myself(Poncy bugger owes me fifty quid. :) But seriously, do people really get *chided* into caring?

But seriously, do people really get *chided* into caring?

Hell no. People get chided into giving even less of a shit than they did before. Me, I'm about out of outrage. I'm simmering down to a slow rolling boil.

Both of my cats are now collared. I woke this morning to the rustling and rattling of Nico dragging Malachi's harness into my bedroom. Not his own, mind you, but the smaller one that only fits Malachi.*shakes head* they have such a loving relationship, why would he want me to take Mal outside, in the rain, for walkies? That has never gone well (when i lived in a 3rd floor apt i would occasionally take one of the kitties out for a 'walk', which as all cat people know is really standing in one place for a really long time while they sniff every blade of grass. And maybe run up a tree. Nico hated it, he would just pancake on the ground and refuse to move. Mal loved it and would frequently climb trees and chase after invisible things in the grass. Until an offleash dog mauled my poor kitty who was leashed and couldn't run away. Mal took some serious blood from that dog and I sure as hell didn't apologize to the jerk owner who had their dog offleash coming out of a pet-friendly apt bldg with dozens of animals of all kinds. Anyways, Mal never really enjoyed walkies after that even when i carried him blocks away to a park. Now I have a yard and they just occasionally go out there to eat grass and hoark it back up in a fenced haven that doggies can't get into.

I worry about Nico sometimes and his odd preoccupation with bondage gear.

I miss Nico. And Mal. They are quirky, lovely cats.

I'm also grateful every single time I drop something that Nico isn't here. I fumble a lot of pills. He's thought of often?

Just worked an 11-hour day. It was a midterm day. I hate these. And for extra fun, my classes were assigned to a building way the hell on the other side of campus from both my office and the parking garage, in a room with stairs with no railings.