I waddled into work for my triumphant return and no one really noticed that I was gone.  I was gone for two days and the greatest response I got from either of my bosses were “I was curious where you were”. Just curious? I thought I was important enough to at least anger or annoy them. I’ve either got to become more important or set up deadman triggers to break the printers if I’ve not been in for three days. Then they’ll know when I’m gone. On the plus side, someone did comment that the room seemed less witty.
Tag: work
The Ceiling, Day 3
So, I’ve clocked some quality time staring at the ceiling and wanted to venture forth. I went from supine to upright in a mere 45 minutes and back to sitting in 30 seconds because of the wicked splinter I got doing foot rotation on a wooden floor. Having not eaten for a day or so I got to the kitchen and fell into a chair. Not wanting to get up again I restricted myself to things I could get while sitting. Lunch consisted of two spoonfuls of chili, six clementine oranges and a fistful of Oreos that required navigating a flagstone floor in a rolling chair. I think I’ll go back to work tomorrow, I just need to figure out where I can hide a floor mat to stretch out on every few hours. All my previous sleeping spots have been discovered.
2008 Resolution Review and Onward to 2009
Item by item review of 2008 Resolutions
1) Pass another actuarial exam – Fail
2) Complete new Ockanickon page – Win
3) Learn how to make a yule log (food, not combustible) – Win
4) Remove all dead skin from feet – Win
5) Find job as actuary that doesn’t involve moving to Pittsburgh – Fail
6) Re-arrange room and set-up new treadmill arrangement – Epic Win
7) “Box†assistant camp director knowledge – Slow Fail
8 ) Scan important documents and old photos – Photo Fail, Documents Win
Site specific goals:
1) Cover a logical fallacy every-other week, Fail but my end game’s changed with the fork between suburbanadventure.com and logicwarrior.net
2) Post Daily Highlights within 48 hours 80% of the time – Win, even through camp
3) Complete 5 Projects or Joe Baloke trips – Fail, I’ve moved away from using a fake person. I’ve embraced transparency on the web and use terryrobinson as my username for just about every new service I join with exception of games
4) Add back-log of pictures to Flickr – Abandoned, Flickr no longer my photo backup solution
2009 Resolutions
- Pass another actuarial exam
- Run a rippin’ Klondike Derby
- Get an actuarial job that doesn’t involve moving to Pittsburg
- Scan family photos
- Create online version of at least 3 merit badges
- Drop a hobby
- Get Logicwarrior.net up and running (vague, I know, but I’m not sure how to detail this)
- Learn PHP, MySQL, CSS or develop competence in a programming language
Maintained Goals
- Continue posting here near daily
- Continue treadmilling 10-12 miles a week
- Continue keeping up with world news
- Continue pursuing value
Giant Monitor Homesickness
A coworker left and as is the sacred tradition of my workplace, we drew lots for his crap. I emerged with a 22″ monitor that most of my coworkers didn’t realize could be used in tandem with my existing one each computer in the CAD group has a double dual-link DVI-capable video card.   I connected the 2nd monitor and suddenly felt at home. Not quite my 2560×1600 30-incher but I was wrapped in monitor again with roughly 90° of my field of view taken up by screen. So at home, in fact I began searching for TOR proxy stuff I’d been looking for, luckily the crack between the screens revealed the drab off-white paint of my generic office encampment before IT could realize how much of a 1337 h4xor I was. Aside benefit is the confuse the setup induces; the lowest guy on the totem-pole has the pimpest rig. Maybe I should do some case mods or bring in an illuminated keyboard and maybe they’ll give me a business card. Even the group leader was interested saying “it looks neat, but I’m not sure it’d work with the stuff I use. Maybe I’ll start out with something small and work my way up.” He constantly has 9 things open at full screen, his head’s going to pop off when he tries it.
Deus Ex Refrigerata
Two women were standing in front of the half-sized refrigerator available in each employee break area staring at the fridge intensely. The handle was missing as the door was in the middle of being repaired (a handle replacement) and neither seemed audacious enough to tango with the wild, handle-less unit. I walked over, opened the door by its side (having much experience liberating food from fail-handled appliances) retrieved my victory sandwich and triumph Mountain Dew to the sounds of the women going “ooooooooh” and then presumably they themselves emancipating their lunches from their former tenacious captor.
It like the old saying goes “open the refrigerator for someone from marketing and feed them for a meal. Teach them to open the refrigerator door themselves and you’ll cow them in stunned submission.”
The Great Collaboration
I got in late today and everyone in the group was working at a feverish pace. Engineers were yelling at designers trying to contact secretaries. The cries were almost pleading:
“The colors won’t work. We’ll never get the purpose across.”
“It needs to be bigger, it’s never going to hold all we need it to.”
“There’s no way in hell that’ll get through the design team. We need to redo the shape.”
“We don’t have time for a redesign, if this isn’t done by 5 PM we’re toast, this is too important to mess up.”
It took me a while to figure out what had everyone working together to ram through a last minute project of great importance and secrecy: A custom-made going away present for a departing employee.
Marginalized Majority
I have no problem with America diversifying. I look forward to having a multi-racial president, I have no problem with immigration and I think the benefits of multiculturalism are immense. I was tested today when I received a note that my time card had to be in sooner due to the holidays, and it was entirely in Spanish.  Oddly, the sheet used the informal favor instead of the more Americanized por favor for “please”.
If this is the emerging trend I hope the Warlpiri never become our dominant ethnic minority.
Liquid Nitrogen Bummer
A few days ago I asked a coworker what he was doing with 400 gallons of liquid nitrogen, then he just grinned and today I found out. He finished his test work and then we looked for something cool we could dunk in liquid nitrogen and subsequently smash. We scanned the building for plants, flowers, bushes and the like with no success: all the plants were fake, no one had flowers or plants on their desks and all the leaves were off the trees. Nothing even vaguely cool to break. I tried the standby of a rubber stopper, even at -178° it didn’t break. Like a Twilight Zone episode there was nothing cool to break. Disheartened, we settle for shattering some plastic netting which formed a jagged crown. It will forever be a warning to those who plan to get extra liquid nitrogen, but don’t plan enough to get cool shit to break with it.
-Edited: My spelling and grammar blew, my apologies to eyes stabbed by my slovenliness.
Blood Drive Needle Fail
I enjoy giving blood. I’m good at it (if that’s even possible.) I can drop a pint in about 3 minutes, I have wonderful iron levels and I’m O-positive, not quite the holy grail of O-negative but close. I don’t faint, I don’t complain and I don’t take the afternoon to recover.
My first indication that I wouldn’t be through as fast as I wished was when I was stopped for high blood pressure. Apparently, 1250/80 is unusual. I’m pretty sure that would also kill a person and were an artery cut under such pressure I’d be blow back like a rocket.
Supervisor: Sir, you’re blood pressure’s pretty high.
Me: What is it?
Supervisor: 1250/80.
Me: I’m pretty sure that’s a typo. Sphygmomanometers don’t even go that high.
Supervisor: Well, I guess i could do it over again.*repeats BP reading*, there we go 130 over 80.
Despite being lower, I think it was higher because of my tard-induced rage.
Then came the actual extraction. I thought it was the best draw I’d gotten as I barely felt a pin prick, until I looked down and saw the need hadn’t entered my arm yet and I was being scraped by the woman’s finger nail ring (yes, fingernail ring). The puncture hurt more than usual and the stream was slower than normal. This gave me extra time to see all the tiny women in the complex get kicked out like a fat kid in dodge ball. If you weigh 110 lbs and are a vegetarian, you probably can’t give blood. Don’t bother trying, you meet neither the weight requirement and have as much iron in you as a dying jellyfish. If you want to, bulk up a bit and eat some Victorian fencing, handmade nails or lick anvils the morning of, something to give iron. Don’t worry, their vegetarian and maybe you won’t waste these people’s time wishing. It’s almost as tragic as the fat kid in gym class trying to do the rope climb. It’s nice that he tries, but part of you knows the farcical attempt is pathetic.
Maybe i should build a Fisher Price “My First Donation” kit where anorexic waifs or oddly dieted kids can give fake blood to little fake leukemia patients. It’ll come with a plastic fork so you can even get the experience of several failed stabs at your arm from an underpracticed operator.
The Courtesy of Obliviousness
On the drive into work, I sneezed so hard I had a nose bleed and while I was pretty quick with the paper towel cork some of sanguine nasal fire hose got on my shirt. I fully zipped up my winter coat despite it being a balmy 42°F and wore a lab coat for no reason until I’d have a chance to tackle it at lunch.
Through the whole morning no one said anything about the red trail down my shirt even through two rather lengthy conversations. At lunch, I unbuttoned my shirt and began applying and wiping off hydrogen peroxide to lift the stains and over the course of 30 minutes or so with people walking in and out no one said a thing except for “hello” or “thanks for the brownies” (which I had brought in).
I always assumed blood on clothing was rather identifiable as it keeps a distinct red until it turns rusty brown. Had I traded brownies for my coworkers ignoring ominous blood stains? Did they think that imposing would have stemmed the tide of pastries? If I accidentally kill someone it’s good to know I could cover for it by hosting an omlette bar or a really nice cake.