27 July 2001
Last year: I was too busy trying not to get smashed in the face.
I spent yesterday feeling extremely flutterbrained (as I'm sure my journal entry suggested) - for most of the morning, my attention span was literally no more than thirty seconds or so. I managed to knuckle down a little after lunch, but was still pretty easily distracted.
My supervisor did finally send me the e-mail with the customer's list of things that were wrong with the way we were outputting data. I looked over the list and saw nothing there that would take more than an hour - but there were eight things on the list. I told my supervisor that I'd probably be able to get them done by the end of today (Friday, that is) but that the customer might have to wait until Monday for a new data file. He said this was fine.
I made the first change, which took over an hour because I kept having to change things to allow for certain special cases.
Then I got distracted for a while.
Then I started working on the second change, only to discover - upon closer examination - that about four of the changes requested actually combined into only one actual change in the code (that is, the errors they found were all the result of a single problem) and that most of the rest of the changes were simply a matter of semantics. (For instance, if we didn't have data for Field X, they wanted the data record for that field to be filled with spaces instead of 0's, which is what we were originally using. A truly trivial change.)
All the changes took me a little over two hours, and that includes the amount of time it took me to copy the new code to the server (my kingdom for version control software!) and send out e-mail notifying the people who needed to know about it.
But ah, the dilemmas: Do I actually tell my supervisor that I got the changes finished? Or do I spend today mostly goofing off aside from helping Mike test the stuff he's doing?
It's Friday. I spend the day mostly goofing off, of course.
(Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have work that I enjoy.)
When I got home from work, the clocks in the house were blinking at me. Apparently, there had been some kind of power flicker. I re-set the stove's clock, the microwave's clock, and the answering machine's clock, and was grateful that our DVD player was smart enough to retrieve the date and time from the cable.
Then I sat down to play some Baldur's Gate (which, I must say, is a damned addictive game) and forgot about it.
At about 8:00, my eyelids started to droop. At 9:30 or so, I gave up the ghost and went to bed. As I slid under the covers, I realized that my clock was blinking at me. Oops. I reset the time, and even remembered to reset the alarms! And I quickly fell asleep.
This morning, Matt's alarm went off (for what was probably the third time, but I don't remember the first two) and I rolled over and looked at my clock. 6:31. Why weren't my alarms going off, damn it???
Oh. The clock said 6:31 PM. I'd set the time wrong.
I hate that.
Word of the Day:
aerie - the nest of a bird on a cliff or a mountaintop; an elevated often secluded dwelling, structure, or position
Currently Reading:
- nothing
Current Projects:
- drawing
- Hall stuff
- garden