A juggling technophile shares personal stories, challenges, humor and perhaps some political commentary.
There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Power through
Or give up the fight
When the time comes
The brain turns foggy
And hides distracting thoughts
Creativity flows
But hesitate
If you slow
The fog turns solid
Hit a wall
Pass out now
Or pass out then
Both a loss
Neither a win
There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Sacrifice the wee hours
And give up the day
Whatever decision
The clock ticks
The night comes
You fade away.
When we have three day weekends, I like to take a personal day to try to have a 4 day weekend to work around the house on all that I neglect due to work and volunteer obligations and to be with my family. More often than not, this translates to working on the computer to earn extra money. Today was no different. Despite the beautiful weather, I did no yardwork. I made no clubhouse repairs. I washed no cars. Instead I programmed, rather troubleshot a non-functioning program with little success.
I did take a few minutes to repair the door knob on our front door. It had become so loose that it failed to open the door. Fixing it you would think would be a couple twists of a screwdriver. But symbolic of all things in my life, it was not so simple and required an allen wrench (technically ‘key’), flashlight (technically iphone), phillips head screwdriver, and a pry bar.
As darkness falls, the stress of the quantity of unfinished planning for scouts, paperwork for other things, unsent communiques, failed budgeting, and misplaced dreams for this 4 day weekend are trumped only by the snarling and nattering of my overdone children and wife. At this exact moment, my aching back would like nothing more than a beer and to lounge in front of the television. Instead, some vitamin I, some coffee, and headphones with loud music will power me into the night. "Alexa, play cyberpunk."
I went to the very first Boom’s Day and the next four after that. I committed to myself that I’d go to everyone but after that 5th event, I quit going. Tonight is supposedly the last Boom’s Day. I think it’s a guerrilla marketing effort to raise attendance. Nonetheless, I chose to keep the family home, not fight the crowds, and work on the house and a client’s website. A great deal of yard work was completed. So much more remains. If I had the means, I’d take a year off just to work on my home and family. It’s now dinner time. I head out to park the car and the front door complains, refusing to open if the handle is pressed down instead of raised up. I can fix it. I will fix it. The door knob is a metaphor for my life under constant repair. But I can fix it. I will fix it. I want to accomplish so much more. So much more than has been done. Nonetheless, I am content.
This Sunday of Labor Day weekend thus far: I’ve cursed Microsoft extensively as I fight an ASP.NET solution. I’ve repaired the weedeater and taken my ire out on the lawn. I’ve also decided the last Booms Day will have to happen without my family.
It’s Saturday morning on a three day holiday weekend. What am I doing? Cooking Sunday night’s dinner, of course.
The good: The wife and neighbors may rejoice. The carburetor has been rebuilt and the mower is working!
The bad: Now I have to start working on the yard again.
The good: I fixed the Keurig.
The bad: It broke again.
The good: Took a day off to work on the house.
The bad: Spent the day programming for a client.
The good: It is Labor Day weekend.
The bad: This is the last Boom’s Day.
Jeans split in the crotch? Wear blue underwear!
Some days require the environment be just right for productivity. Today, I need a darkened room, incense burning, attire that doesn’t include button down anything, bare feet, herbal tea, and very, very loud cyberpunk music. Instead, I am in Cubeville. Florescent lights burn through my eyes searing my brain. The glare is so harsh. A din of conversations float over cube walls as ambient noise but not soothing as white noise, oceans, or rain. Interruptions are imminent. Such is the live of a programmer.
Agony is needing to win the lottery and not being able to afford the ticket.
Fourteen years ago today, and after nearly two years of dating, Cathy and I were married at Gatlinburg’s Ye Ol’ Tyme Photo Boothe and its been one grand adventure since then!
Thank you Cathy for making my life incredible!
This one is obviously staged but very good:
Throughout the years of helping people fix their computers, one of the handiest tools in my armory was the Ultimate Boot CD. Not this one, although I did use that version often, but this one. I had an huge number of other tools EBCD, hacker tools, some websites common Joe has no reason to know exist, knowledge and experience, and an impressive Internet searching ability (a little understanding of boolean logic goes a long way). Them: "I don’t know my administrative password." Me: "No problem." Well, perhaps a 30 second delay. Anyhow, I’ve decided to upgrade my last functioning Windows box (Windows 7) to Windows 10. See, all those Linux boxes, and Windows boxes (at one time I had 5 physical machines under my desk, several dual booted to different OSes, and virtual machines on the Linux box…I even had a laptop that I could boot to Windows 3.1, wait a min, I still have that.) have been scraped and sent to e-waste as my home has become a shrine to Steve Jobs as we became fully indoctrinated into the Cult of Mac. As the Windows 10 installer inspects my Windows 7 machine, it discovers UBDC4Win 3.60 and declares that it MUST be removed as incompatible for the installation to continue. With some sadness, not dissimilar to when your goldfish dies, I approved the uninstall. (I still have the iso of the last UBCD I built so I haven’t completely crippled myself.)
What shall I use?
The weather is gorgeous. It’s tax free weekend. Whatever shall we do? Let’s sit inside and program on the computer!
Humans…we get in ruts because we like consistency. Change is good but for the most part, we silly humans despise change.
An eon ago I traveled to Dallas for consulting work. While there, my friend and I would tour mansions being built. (I grew up exploring houses under construction. I love the smell of the wood and imagining the final design.) I noted how the millionaires all seemed to have bedrooms with his and her (separate) bathrooms connected to the bedroom. These bathrooms were HUGE and often were part of a walk-in closet that is comparable in size to one of my children’s bedroom. This creates the opportunity for one of the couple to awaken, go into the closet/bathroom, closet the door, groom and get dressed without disturbing their domestic partner.
I awake before my wife. I try to be as respectful and quiet as possible. She interprets this as me trying my damnedest to wake her with loud talking to myself, banging, clanging, cursing, and spotlights…bright, bright, fiery lights. I use my cellphone to guide myself through the darkened room sometimes having to turn on the flashlight, go into the closet, close the door, turn on the lights, … you get the picture. I glance over at my sleeping beauty and she’s pulled covers and pillows over her head. I grimace but repeat the process the next day and the day after that and so on.
A couple of days ago, I thought I should begin my day by setting everything I need out the night before. This is a productivity habit that I should be ingraining in my children and exercising in my life anyway. This morning, I glanced at the wife with pillow over head and redoubled my commitment to really think about changing my habits. Then I arrived at work and eventually went to the restroom. Glancing in the mirror, I see a guy looking back at me in an orange button down shirt that goes nicely with the black pinstriped dress pants, and…the brown belt. I find it striking and out of place. My new habit begins tonight! (Now I just need a much larger house so I can have one of those his/her bathrooms and one of those clothing valets
