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male-specific plumbing
Tuesday, May 1 2001
Just showing up is half the battle, isn't it? Here I am, at work at my dotcom job. I've noticed that in my building most people don't show up until at least 10am. I must say I'm a little amazed to still have a dotcom job as late as May 2001.
I show up every morning at around eight, fix myself a cup of tea, and gradually ratchet myself up to an appropriate pace for doing the things I either like to do or have to do while at work. It's not bad. I get along with everyone and even the most humiliating work is teaching me new technology, even if it is overly-complicated Microsoft nonsense.
Lately I've been stopping at the bagel place on the corner of Wilshire and Wellesley on my way to work. It would be cool if I began to recognize the people there and if they began to recognize me. Hell, in West LA that would definitely pass for community.
This morning I was having an AIM chat with Linda and she told me that the tall building where she works (up in Glendale) was still rocking back and forth in the aftermath of the sonic boom which had accompanied today's landing of the Space Shuttle. Normally the Shuttle lands in Florida, but the weather reportedly sucks there today. But it also sucks here. It's cold and overcast. I'd wager that there will be a greater than average number of suicides in Santa Monica today.
There's some sort of crazy gnat infestation in my workplace building. Today they became so insistent about flying into my face that after awhile I felt as if they were crawling all over me. I would have stayed there longer figuring out an XSL stylesheet, but all I wanted to do as 6:00pm approached was take a bath and stop my itching.
I found myself spending more time than I'd prefer to admit unsuccessfully attempting to install a SCSI scanner. I'm becoming increasingly familiar with the NT Event Viewer. But there are still things about NT I don't quite understand. Why, for example, is it so difficult to figure out the place from which items in the startup process are loaded?
Something bad happened to my male-specific plumbing tonight during a routine episode of self-love. I think it was a bad idea in this case to ejaculate through a constricted urethra, because it felt as though I blew a gasket somewhere up in my prostate. Most of the pain felt like it was somewhere up my butt but I know how things are arranged down there. It took a hot bath and twenty minutes of relaxation before I recovered enough to confirm by experiment that all that stuff was still working. Is there any personal problem that a hot bath can't fix?
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