Walking the Streets of a Silver City

I’m really not sure what kind of news are out there…except that I’ve taken to not sleeping on Sundays more than most and it has nothing to do with my habit of watching House at night.

Gods, it’s really reached that point, the point of me dreading getting up for work to the extent that I can’t sleep because of it. And it’s not that I don’t like my job in general…just that I’m tired, so very tired of there being an issue every other second. Either this, that or the other and without a doubt, always the user’s fault. I don’t see what I can do if it’s a PEBKAC situation.

Luckily though - and so lucky it is! - that the recent situations were genuine software-gone-on-the-fritz situations and easily resolvable. Even the big mess of it all, the synching, is solid. Woo-hoo!

—

Financially, things had gone well. It’s a little tight, though, mostly in my rash to pay off my very last bills before I go to my post-Labor-Day-weekend getaway. That is expected, though, and it’s part of my grand-master plan for payoff: big chunks, leave only a little of flex spending, get clientele and make more flex spending via freelancing - which does work, I must say, I made $275 since I started a few weeks ago - and by all’s said and done, my debtload will be minimal and/or nonexistent. Which is what I want.

It’s already pretty minimal, if you count that I paid off the bigger chunks of it already. I can take care of major medical things easily after the first break and brother, will it be major…holy crap, I do have to consider rebudgeting if I will be swinging it this year…but fact of the matter is, I swing it now, I am set for life. There’s the slight matter of dental surgery, which is an ugh in its own right.

It’s okay, it’ll all be fine, I say. The bulk of the worst is over, after this, it’s butter.

I know this is personal but I don’t think I’d bother protecting this one. For the people that do read this journal, the fact that I was married is no secret and the fact that I left with no intent of coming back isn’t one either. I may password it up later on, if I feel this may’ve shown too much.

To slightly recap, I left him after a year and a half of marriage. Please refrain from asking me about the circumstances of my marriage, it’s not something I’m up to rehash right now. When I left, I took only my barest necessities - clothing, computer, some of my books - and got the hell out of dodge. I kept up a charade of “maybe get back together” until about May of that year, 2006.

I didn’t see any of what I left back there save for a batch of things the ex brought back in January of this year, almost a full two years after i left him. Okay. And I by then all but gave up ever seeing any of those things again.

Two weeks ago, I get a text from him, saying that he moved out of the apartment and left me all my things. This was a shocker - I knew he renewed the lease on that place shortly after I left, but I honestly thought it was more convenient for him to keep the place. It’s in a good area, great location and best of all…excellent landlords. Honestly, I loved those people, they never raised rent, took great care of us and the place…really.

Nothing in the universe could’ve prepared me for what I found.

The place was nothing like when I left it. I cleaned out the fridge back before i left - I don’t know what all was collecting in it after that. The kitchen, in its entirety, spice rack and all, was untouched since I left in February of ‘06 - how the fuck that’s possible, I don’t even know. I’ve had a great batch of dishes, which I found used and never washed since 2006. Appliances, which I’ve used heavily, weren’t cleaned after I left, so you can well imagine how I found them. And…on top of that, a HUGE stripe of dust/mold/something all where the couch stood.

I don’t want to know, I really don’t want to know what he did in there.

Seriously. The landlady was golden, spent several hours cleaning with me and my brother brought the shit back.

And oh gods, you people would laugh. He got a treadmill…and left it in the house. A $2,000 piece of equipment, left it there. He was so gung-ho for that thing he wanted to gut the savings account for it once.

I’m amazed. Outright.

He didn’t bother changing the bills in my name either. So I got a lovely little shock when I almost got sent to collections.

My gods. Just really…

I’m shocked. And then I realized two things. One, my landlords can go after him with the repair costs. Two…when the lease was renewed, my name was still on it. SHIT. I’ve seen that place. I’ve seen it and the way he left it, it’s about 10K or damages right there. I’m barely staying on top of my current bills as of right now and this will freakin’ wreck my finances.

Which, I think, is what he wanted.

Fucking A. Really.

This is a bit of a scrambled, jumbled sort of post on the account that…well, haven’t updated for a while, a lot is going on, et cetera.

First of all, can we please have some winter now? Really? Seriously? I don’t do heat very well. I come from a landlocked, low-humidity area. I can tolerate straight heat, but where I am it is so humid that I can’t stand it. I sweat on a dime in humid weather. Good for weight loss, bad for sanity. I’ll take the cold, please, and will buy extra sweaters to stand the windchill.

Workout is going extremely well. Shit, I didn’t even realize how well it was going until I noticed my measurements change. I try to keep a certain track so I can modify my program accordingly and found that while the scales don’t move - and they should not, fat is less dense than muscle and if muscle builds at the same rate as the fat burns, I should be gaining a little weight - I lost inches. I started working out formally in April. I started my tracker in May. Middle of July, I’m halfway to my goal, measurement-wise.

And really, I just like the fact that I’m feeling much stronger than before. I actually have upper-body strength right now and I’m working towards more of it. I think that come September, I would be able to pull off part of my goal.

In other news….I am falling in love with writing again. I hit the middle-point of my Book 1 edit/rewrite. As I read over my story and the web of events that I’ve written - and am now refining - the more I feel that 1. I hit on a great story and 2. there’s nothing else that I want to do.

Friend of mine is trying to get me into freelance writing, which I think I will try a hand on.

*sigh* Very weird going into work every day and knowing that half of the office stands empty. Just…weird. I don’t know how to even think in that regard.

But that blurb aside, things are picking up, but with my work. In addition to my doc, I have a client in J., who’s another accountant. I will try and do some bookkeeping for him in addition to computer repair and if that be the case - hells, whatever, it pays some bills.

Just…weird. Tired. Today I do an amateurish version of spring cleaning, just to spruce things up a tad. And that be all.

I swear, there are some days wherein I wonder that I could well be working construction.

Last night, I came to the rather unpleasant realization that I needed to gut my room. That is to say, turn the bed a certain way and then rearrange some if not most furnishings - a noble mission by any other name.

Executing it is a bitch in stilettos.

First of all, I was right in estimating that there’s no plausible way to turn the bed without at least banging up some walls. The gouges can be painted over, they’re about 2mm deep. The problem is, I had to disassemble and reassemble the frame - an expected complication also. The other problem? Some of the screws were stripped - as in, without me knowing it, the bed was falling apart.

How’s that for a wakeup call. Yeesh.

I replaced the screws (mine are a bit too long so they kinda poke out of the bedframe in some places) and if anything, I do have a small hand-drill that I may be able to use to lift up the guide bars if and when so much as one of the old screws become an issue.

The only thing I may have an issue with - and it’s the same issue I’ve had the first few times - is storage. Too much shit, 10×12ft area, maneuvering room…eh, none.An idea came across my head that I think I will implement. Know those wire-assembled shelves normally used to go above the toilet? Crossed my mind that if I were to assemble one of them, it would fit directly abover the storage chest that I have - and give me extra shelves. Project!!

I know, the solution is moving out, but until loans are paid or salary goes up, it’s not an option. Till then, I make do with what I got and if a $20 wire shelf will make my living easier, then fuck, not gonna object one little bit.

…although methinks I would like a power outlet in a normal place very much… (power outlet RIGHT at the bed, caught between the headboard and the wall)

So - let the project begin!

I can’t seem to shake this exhaustion.

Well, I know why. It’s been tough days at work, for reasons disclosed prior. Overall, I just feel as though I’m outstaying my welcome and as things are becoming more and more turbulent, I feel less secure in what I’m doing.

I hate this; losing confidence in my things because I’m worried about circumstances.

So far, my searches hadn’t yielded much of anything.

Today though, is my appointment with my very first client! I got the idea to start up a business doing, well, what I’ve done to pay off my debts, rack up my savings and stash my budget as an overall: BUDGET MANAGEMENT. It sounds simple but trust me, people can, will be and often are a bit difficult when it comes to things like money. So, i figure: how about make some extra bucks, improve my business acumen and sharpen my financial mojo?

I’m psyched. Still fucking tired as all hell, but psyched. :)

Okay, so I’m looking straight down the barrel of student loan repayment and oh, it doesn’t look pretty from here. But, I have a plan. And luckily, it will be a successful endeavor, provided that my cashflow remains the same, at least to the degree that I would like it to be.

The trick is knowing what to put where. I’m thinking of putting a half of my annual savings towards one particular loan account at a time. The trouble comes up when I ask “Which account do I focus on killing off first?

Issues as follows:

Private loan: repayment plan has me paying an overall less if I follow it. The thing is, the monthly payments will nearly double in 2010. Consider again the cashflow issue - mine’s a ways limited. I put a chunk towards that, the payments may or may not reduce but I’d have a LOT less to repay in the long run.

Government loan: The repayment plan’s only benefit is low monthly payments, but with the interest accruing as it’s going, I will be paying that loan well into 2020. Two words: HELL NO. I want to get rid of this in a HURRY. I put a chunk towards it and cut down both the overall amount needed to pay AND the monthlies.

Perkins: Also government, interest rate is nowhere near that bad, and if I put a chunk towards it, I all but pay it off.

Dither, dither, dither, but such is the nature of financial planning. You have the options but you have GOT to make a decision and more to, stick by it.

I think it’s pretty good that I’m doing independent work also. Whatever extra cash I make will go towards getting rid of those.

Who knew survival, just simple survival, took planning?

Tomorrow’s gonna be a BIG day. I will need all the luck I can get. This determines the direction my life is going to take in a huge way…

and while I know it’s going to go well, cross your fingers and eyes!!

Also meeting an old friend for dinner tomorrow. It’s been a while…

So, now this marks two months of my program, right about. Granted I slipped foodwise, more than a few times (and yes R, your choc shipment was partly to blame, and I don’t care what I resemble after I eat it!) but it’s nothing more than what’s expected. You’re bound to slip sometimes and every once and again, the salad took a backseat to ribs. Except that I noticed I eat ribs a LOT! less (once a month, not once every 2 wks) and I cut a lot out of my diet in favor of fruit.

The odd thing is, I don’t like salad much. Never did, always was of the attitude that if I were to eat rabbit food, I’d be a rabbit. I can’t tolerate soy -  and really, if it’s milk, it’s milk and keep it that way instead of drinking liquefied grass (except for lactose intolerance) - and don’t buy into fad diets. I figure, eat it organic, eat it as it is but eat it balanced.

As such, a friend of mine introduced me to the Greek salad with feta. Mixed greens, tomatoes, crumbled Feta cheese with oil and vinegar. I added a bit of chopped kielbasa in there for a kick - beats bacon bits - and it’s astoundingly good. It’s better than what I originally figured, too, so now it’s a staple of my diet. So is fish - fried, which I should also change, but agh, workplace deli sucks in that aspect, the fried tilapia is their least greasy seafood, ironically - and shellfish in general. LOVE shrimp, love crab, crawfish meat is also good but I’ve not had it in ages.

I can see a marked difference in myself in the before and after starting this program. Forget weight, it’s more the fact that I fell into the habit of eating well, even if I don’t exercise, calculating nutrition without looking at calories - I generally feel better. Healthier, for the lack of a better word and I didn’t realize how unhealthy I felt until I started going regularly.

It’s rather refreshing to get up in the morning and feel different. It IS true what they say about exercise and endorphins, because I feel my best after I hit the elliptical. My knees still can’t take a normal treadmill, ironically. I’m stronger, much - but not as much as I though.

Any ideas on how to restore joint health, suggestions welcome. I had a back injury that had since been corrected but not to the point of where I’m back to pre-injury. My knees are pretty bad, but better since I started working out in general on the account of the motion. The issue is - strength. How do I go about getting my joints to their full?

Ideas?

Мне сейчас точно обрыдло сидеть как на посту, и чего я жду,  даже менее ясно.

И кириллица традиционной клавиатуры мне надоедает слишком скоро.

Транслит гораздо легче.

ОК, к делу. Почему я пишу по-русски, лучше сказать что большинство моих читателей не поймут моего родного языка, и на этом им большое спасибо.

Мне обрыдло сидеть на посту, ожидая хуй знает чего. Мне надоело то, что мне втюхивает мать, что после развода, я не могу ни встречатся с кем-то без причуд, или спать с кем-то без серьёзных намерений.  Как будто-бы из меня выйдет Софочка, у которой достаточно паскудная репутация в нашей семье. Я так о ней не думаю, но всё-таки…

Скажем одно: мне не нравится еще то, что моя маман всегда думает что все, что происходит со мной и каким-то мужчиной непременно моя вина. Был случай в прошлом годы, где вышла неприятность с одним из моих, и мать сразу же начала спрашивать “А чего ты тогда натворила?”" Извините, откуда вопрос? Я хотела тогда понять откуда что вышло; зачем предразумевать что это непременно сделала я?

Почему я всегда виновата?

Её никак не ублазить. Так что я немного растеряна когда я говорю что я не знаю как ей сказать что 1. я имею право спать с кем хочу после развода без личных связей любого сорта, 2. мне совершенно не надо чтобы из-за этого моя мать думала что я шлюха с улици. Можно подумать что она меня ничему в жизни не учила. Но всё-таки, думаю что я осталась одна достаточно. Пора обдумывать если в этом городе есть хотя-бы один нормальный человек для меня.

Думаю что я уже чего-то нашла, но мне не надо пока связыватся дальше чем то, что по английски “casual” - к чему? А потому что, после этого мудозвона по инициалам О.А., я не могу себе позволить еще боли. Мне довольно этого. А если этот окажется хорошим для меня, я не хочу спустить этот шанс в унитаз.

The rain is something I could sincerely do without.

Michelle Duggar is pregnant with #18.

I think my tolerance is dangerously close to snapping.

I’m all for different faiths, though I practice none. I’m all for tolerating various definitions of family, considering I have my own and kids don’t fall anywhere near it. But this is getting me more infuriated than anything else, for the following reasons.

1. There is enough people in the world. Don’t pretend that overpopulation isn’t a problem anymore. We’re a consumer generation and we deplete natural resources. Guess what: the more consumers, the more resources get depleted. With food prices skyrocketing, how long do you expect people to be able to survive? I come from a country with a little-known history for famines. The planet is already rollin’ up her sleeves to do some house-cleaning if the natural disasters are of any indication.

2. Whoever is pushing for the lack of birth control is seriously sick in the head for reasons of what it does to the mother. If you think birth doesn’t damage your body, you’re wrong. Permanent disability? Possible. Incontinence? Common. Death? Quite. Warped pelvic bones? Yes. I don’t even want to get started on that woman’s reproductive organ state. Her pelvic bones must be absolutely horrible.

3. Jim Bob. Anyone with that name makes me automatically suspicious. That and what the hell, is the realty business really that good, with the market going bust? Where’s he getting the money? And what’s the size of the board that he has to strap to his ass to avoid falling into that…pit. And what’s with the J-names for all the kids? What the HELL is that?

*shudder*

Has all the earmarks of a cult and I don’t think it’d be long until they start interbreeding. Eeee-GAD.

Just…agh. My tubes are tying themselves.

Just lifewise. Everything’s okay; I met up with a friend of mine this afternoon - someone I’ve not seen in months. He’s well and his brothers - also close to me - are doing okay as well.

I don’t know how I’m doing as of yet. I’m still trying to fall into this entire routine of working out, getting things done, getting things together. It’s getting to be a little surreal, truth be told.

Not to mention mind-numbing. I didn’t think I could potentially fall into this kind of a mental rut, but yeah, it happened. The hell is this; I can’t even bother to write, when only a few months ago, I couldn’t get enough of my book. I still can’t, but I can’t lift my fingers to write as of late.

Also…I’ve been cleaning out my old comp and came across a drawing sketched by my late friend Jason K.

Rambling under the cut…and nostalgia.

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I don’t normally converse on this subject but when doing my blog crawl - friends’ lists, other blogs - I came across this snippet from the True Mom Confessions website (spelling as is):

I never realized untill last night how embaressed my family really is by me being fat. DD has a trip coming up next month at the local water park. She looked me dead in the eye as she handed the slip and said “mom you don’t need to chaperone this trip” I asked her why. She said ” it’s really embaressing seeing you in a bathing suit” DD is 10. I talked to DH about it later that evening his reply “Maybe you should listen to your daughter” I know I’m fat 230lbs of disgusting blubber. I just didn’t know every one in this house was that repulsed by me.

This hit me close to home, a LOT.

For one, the situation in this confession is just sad. The daughter is shaming and disrespecting her mother without repercussions and the husband is obviously allowing it to happen. More to, neither of them thinks that pointing out someone’s weight issue is a problem.

It is.

Why does it hit close to home? I was once heavier than that. I was pushing 250 lbs at the age of 20 because
of a failed thyroid. Let me tell you something, people - the way I felt at that time was horrible. I knew I had a weight problem, I knew I was fatter than I should be. I’m 5′9″, for the record. But the one thing that cut at me was when people would point it out to me.

Nagging, shaming and hurting someone because of their weight never worked and never will. In fact, it makes things worse because if someone is a comfort eater, the pounds will pile on when he/she uses food to deal with the pain of family members or friends insulting them because of weight.

Yes, I was fat. I’m not anymore, but this doesn’t mean I forgot about it. In fact, what stands out as most hurtful is not my mother’s habitual overt comments about how I need to take care of the belly pooch - she still does that and I am taking care of it, see workout entries for detail - but my ex-husband telling me that my biggest problem is because I’m fat and lazy and that I’m essentially to blame for my own being depressed.

That fucking hurt.

Not only because he’s an asshole but because he used that first.

And what about people whose weight is because of a medical condition or a medication? One of my friends is overweight because of a debilitating illness, another because her epilepsy control medications forced her to gain. What about them? Should they be shamed because they are big? Anyone who ever tries to will be dealing with me full-force; overweight or not, these are two gorgeous women, inside and out.

And me? I gained weight, lost it but I’m not perfectly shaped. Granted, I’m losing rapidly. Should I be shamed too?

Should this mother be also, because she’s 230 lbs? So what? She works, possibly, minds her household and raises her daughter. While I know the girl didn’t mean to say what she did - or she doesn’t realize the impact that her words have - what the husband said is just plain cruel.

Here’s a hint: every human being with a weight problem is painfully aware of having it. Pointing it out hurts worse.

No one ever shamed a pound off anyone. Therefore, people with overweight friends or relatives? Shut. The fuck. Up.

This is in part brought on by someone pointing out that I am best at putting things - and people, ironically - together. Anthony - not sure if you keep up with this blog, but I recall you tossing this one out to me at one point in time also.

This is an interesting trait of mine to think about, wherein I focus a lot on things being “together” - organized, systematic, working. I’m not sure if that’s the tech in me talking or something else, but I feel that either it’s a groove that can’t be ironed or this is where my motto of “never give up until the job is done” must be rescinded.

Cut for length

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I left early today, coworker is leaving early tomorrow, which should be lovely…ahh, I still love and relish in the feeling of not having to do anything for a while. Next week, boss is going on vacation and this Saturday is mine. AT LAST!

Seriously, it’s not till you have the weekend as fully yours till you grow to appreciate time off. Especially in light of the prior post.

Weeelllll, work drivel notwithstanding, how are things otherwise? GREAT. They really are. I finally can wake up and after getting the “no sleep, bah” buzz out of my head, I’ve had a good while of waking up and knowing I’m doing well.

I’m two payments away from paying off revolving accounts.

I have a slew of friends who showed that they more than give a damn

and I will find a way to pay off my student loan obligations quickly. Or at least integrate the payments so that I’d be able to pay them without it impacting my daily budget. And in that regard, I would be able to take good care of myself and prep for the possibility of moving into a place of my own. Roommates, yes…but still a place.

For once, I feel potential starting to bloom again.

The boss is asking me to put some feelers out for the sale of a Dell M90 laptop.

The story?  Comp was sent in for a warranty replacement, so it got replaced…and the owner went with a MacBook pro instead. So, the Dell is up for grabs.

Running:

100GB HD

4GB RAM

Merom Core 7.2 Processor

512MB Graphics card

Bluetooth-equipped, runs Windows XP.

In other words, this is a graphic designer’s dream machine, unless you have a Mac.

Price negotiable, please drop a comment with your e-mail. I will contact you with more details.

Serious offers ONLY.

Yes, R., you asked for it, you got it. Though be forewarned, since I’m a fairly open person, I don’t think it falls under the spectrum of that previous blurb.

*grins*

Well, okay, fine, on with the essay. Sheesh.

As y’all know very well, there are industries that pander to people, men and women alike. Whether out of a lost-in-history tradition or otherwise, St. Valentine’s day had been inflated by the greeting card industry to become the holiday that shows appreciation for that special girl in your life.  (Pardon while I barf at typing that; I have a low tolerance for glurge/sappiness). As such, on February 14th, girls get showered with pink cards, roses, chocolates, whatever.

I never cared much for the holiday, can’t ya tell? ;)

Nor do the men doing this. I would think that of all the bloody things to show a woman that a man loves her, that man would 1. not need to drown her in pink and bad chocolate (seriously, Whitman’s? The prepackaged Duane Reade boxes shaped like hearts? There are much finer chocolatiers in the world, believe me), and 2. try to do that in far more unique ways and on far better days than that.

So, whether as far as payback or otherwise, men invented a counterpart, that is March 14th.

The rest continued under the cut. Click where it says “Read the rest of this entry.”

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Saw the movie tonight and am honestly surprised. It’s a gorgeously done movie but it holds no alignment with the novel, which I confess to be disappointed by. I love the novel.

Now…for the people.

Eric Bana.

Now, I’ve not watched much of his works, because I’ve not watched movies/TV in ages. But he is charismatic, plugs into his role with amazing ease. He became Henry VIII as far as I’m concerned. Not only did he capture the attitude of the time, but he did an amazing job showing how Henry hated himself at various points in the film. Historically speaking, no one ever know about which of his wives he was closest to - rumors go it was Jane Seymour, but who knows? - but really, I do think that he was rather attached for Katherine of Aragon. Eric’s eyes showed a lot more acting than his vocal inflections.

I will note that while Eric is quite gorgeous in the movie, I like my men with a clean face. No scruff.

Natalie Portman.

I will confess myself a Star Wars fan on her behalf. She made a gorgeous Queen Amidala; carried herself stunningly on that account. Her personality outside of the cinema, I do not know. I cannot judge. But as per the movie…if there is a better way to show Anne Boleyn-Tudor come unglued after birthing Elizabeth, I’d like to see it. She did a stunning job of carrying herself as a Renaissance-era lady in waiting to the queen.

Although the film is wrong on one major account. Anne Boleyn-Tudor did in fact attempt conceiving with her brother out of desperation. She had Elizabeth, yes, but that was her only healthy pregnancy. She had about 5-6 reported miscarriages before she had a very, very badly malformed miscarriage. She was executed because of that malformation being suspected as devil’s work.

Scarlett Johansson

I first saw that girl as Molly Pruitt in Home Alone 3. I will confess, I didn’t really see an “actress” in her in the foggiest; I thought she was just any teenager off the agency block to fill a part. I am finding myself eating those words. My word, she grew up, this one. She looks like a classic starlet in the media, think Jean Harlowe. But her acting…especially as Mary Boleyn, is stunning. I didn’t think I’d see that out of her.

That and Mary Boleyn acted admirably under the circumstances under which her sister was in power.  I do not know, however, if Elizabeth was really raised by her, but wouldn’t shock me if she was.

Everyone has things they blog about. Everyone has things they don’t blog about. Challenge me out of my comfort zone by telling me something I don’t blog about, but you’d like to hear about, and I’ll write a post about it. Ask for anything: latest movie watched, last book read, political leanings, thoughts on yaoi the benefit of revolutions, favorite type of underwear, graphic techniques, etc. Repost in your own journal so that we can all learn more about each other.

More about this life o’ mine under the cut.

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Server came back up successfully after some jiggering around by the tech. I ought to send the guy a card; he saved my hide on this one.

But to have it go down at the time that it did, talk about the worst possible time!

You know it’s bad when a week’s worth of lack of sleep catches up to you in the space of a day. It happened last night.

I went out for the evening, mostly to catch a delectable meal and somewhere mid-meal, a headache hit. That’s not an issue, considering I’m fairly stressed most days in general. The issue is that the wave of sleepiness that followed caught me by surprise. As in, I closed my eyes in one area on the subway ride home and opened my eyes about two stops away from my home station.

I don’t sleep on trains, as a general habit. But yanno, I slept well for once.

Much as I would’ve wanted to watch the eclipse last night, 1. we had cloud cover and 2. the sleepiness.

For the while, I’m trying to get back into my writing groove and for one, I may be able to do that today. Bosses are out for the most part, the only thing I got to do is the computer restoration - which I did, whew - and that is now out of my hands since the system admin (not me) needs to set it to the network.

Remember a charmed time not too long ago when my computer at work decided that the hard drive shouldn’t keep working and BSODed on me?

Another computer followed suit. This one’s at the front desk, belonging to my coworker.

Now, I am compulsive with computer maintenance; it took me by surprise when my old PC managed to kick the bucket. But suddenly, not recognizing the SATA? Something isn’t right here and either it’s a cable gone awry or the HD managed to kick the bucket.

I’m in no position to plant another SATA drive on the fly (mainly b/c there isn’t one to plant!!!), so I called the company, got the HD replacement going, but this is weird. Two drives failing within months of each other? Either Dell is getting slipshod with their construction or something is seriously wrong with this picture. Me being me, I’m going towards Option 2.

And how are you this morning?

Work tomorrow again. This is the second weekend in a row and this time, no Monday off.

Therefore: first person to get on my case on Sunday will get it with both barrels. I need to rest, if I’m having none of it, then I will be cranky…to say the slightest.

In other news, the day seems to be going smoothly. There had been a rather minor change of plans, which I do not mind, but it kinda throws me. Would certainly like a Saturday evening though…but we shall see.

I’m nursing an unholy caffeine tolerance.  I had a cup of coffee in the morning (routine) and 4 cups of tea (also routine). I also had a latte just now…nothing. Not even a buzz. I’m not sure whether to be amazed or alarmed at this.

But life goes on and so do I - and all is well.