Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

RAR!! In which I am annoyed.

In preparation for entering the fray that is Spring '12, I logged in to all my official accounts to print out class lists, classroom assignments and other assorted crap. I had actually gotten it all via e-mail last week, but I could not be arsed to actually do anything with it until this morning.

Once I went through the rigamarole, I was greeted, not with my normal mail screen, but with a new G-mail account. A perfectly clean account, with no previous e-mails in it. Also missing were all contact lists, sent mails, calendar entries and everything else the previous account held.

Fuck a goddamned duck.

A new mail popped up, welcoming me to the NEW uni G-mail system! Hooray! The mail literally said, "Isn't this a lovely way to start off the new year?"

NO, you dozy, goat-felching, Ass-To-Mouth-receiving fuckmunches! NOOOOOO!

I called IT support. The tech sounded peevish. "You think you stodgy people would appreciate what we've done and what a cool surprise it was!" he grumped. Whatever, Smedley. I need to port over all my old stuff, I need my lists and contacts, and I really need them before battle-entry tomorrow morning. I'm not entering a hot LZ unarmed.

"Oh, we're going to a whole training series in mid-February. We will explain everything then!"

That's six weeks away, you numb bastard. Everything starts tomorrow. If I'd had some warning, I could have printed everything, or at the least, saved it to flash drive.

Who thought it was a good idea to completely scrub the old system and replace it with a new one less than 24 hours before opening bell --  with no warning?

Friday, January 6, 2012

Crushed, again.

In the process of gathering up and carefully storing all of our assorted Christmas crap, I ran across the box of mismatched  and orphaned Christmas cards.

Every year, I buy three boxes of Christmas cards -- a religiously-themed box, a vulgar/funny box and a non-denominational box. Inevitably, there are leftovers, and just about every third year I can get away with not purchasing cards.  For convenience, all the cards are stacked in a shoebox -- usually with a few stray cards and envelopes from people that need to be added to next years' card list.

At the bottom of the box was a colorful card with a Bethlehem scene on it -- sort of blocky and whimsical -- and covered in scribbles of dreadful handwriting. Three sides of the card were filled with bad puns, academic gossip and random, stream-of-consciousness goofiness.

William's card. From last Christmas.

I knelt there on the floor. First I teared up, and then I just flat-out sobbed for all I was worth.

I miss my friend.

When I had gotten myself under control again, I carefully closed the card and tucked it safely back into the box.

The life of the dead is placed in the heart of the living. -- Cicero