Wednesday, December 01, 2004
I spent a wad of time yesterday hacking at the SmartLabel/Newgistics design document. I've been finding that many of the pseudo requirements have hidden details that only come to light when I point at contradictions or omissions. I struggle with these logic traps for a bit before I have to ask the author and project champion why it is recorded the way it is. Then, the truth comes out. My rather glaring ignorance on how much of the system works that will be impacted by this integration project is making things go quite slowly. The people who know, are not talking and the people who are talking, are guessing. Argh.
On the way home to the Haupertonian Manor last night, I rejoiced that the service engine light on the Super Saturn Dash was no longer on. It seems that it switched on at 50 mile before the 120K mile mark and then turned off 100 miles later. Nice reminder except it scared the daylights out of me. I usually consider the red lights on the dash as 'Idiot Lights'. If it is on, it is probably too late to do anything about the problem except call for a tow or set it on fire. I'm somewhat inclined to maintain or correct issues with our transportation fleet myself so these 'generic' warnings always set me off. Good to see that the engineers had the common decency to have an off trigger as well as an on trigger for this event.
It is later in the night after I have arrived at the Haupertonian Manor and World HQ. I'm standing in the back 50 looking for mastodon droppings. The absurd hour at which the sun plummets below the horizon and withdraws it's precious illumination is a travesty. Someone should do something about it. Perhaps the UN can have some kind of program where the sun must cast light on the Haupertonain Empire for at least 20 hours a day. I will give them special certificates that they can redeem for mastodon droppings at a greatly reduced price. It hard to hunt for these piles in the dark and I don't want to deal with the humanitarian catastrophe of stepping in one.
Late in the evening, I was sitting in the kitchen with the laptop doing my evening blog-surfing. The Mrs was in one of the sub-basements, probably tending to the banks of computers that collect and analyze raw data on our world conquest operations. I had turned off nearly all the lights and was pretty focused on a particularly involved article when I heard a noise. A very disturbing noise that is usually pretty amusing to me if I were the one to emit it. This time, however, the audience was only myself and the two Hounds watching me as they sat in the hallway near the Servant's Entrance. Someone cut it LOUDLY and it wasn't me this time. The two other parties just sat there looking at me like nothing happened ... nobody fessed up. It occurred to me that if the Mrs were present to observe this, I would surely be blamed. I kept this conclusion to myself as a matter of self preservation, never give the unwashed (literally unwashed, they need a bath) masses a means to disrupt your iron fisted rule.
Snuggle with the Wife, fall asleep, wake up at 0615, let hounds out. It raining so they are not very interested in staying out much longer than it takes to poison some grass. While they chow down on their morning meal and I start to empty the dying embers from the wood burning stove, I hear a tiny voice from the top of the Grand Staircase. I briskly complete my tasks at hand and dash off to see Jacob making his way down the stairs, counting each one as he goes. I had no clue that he managed to get down from the mile-wide waterbed, open the master suite door and navigate the hallway effectively in order to get to where he ended up. Slippery little infiltrater. I change the kids and find that Alexis is bit less pissy today. Small blessings. Its a good start to the morning, but the rest started to go south quickly after We left the house. I drop off kids with the Wife, then drop off Family Tank at the mechanic's. Since it is raining out, I take the wife home, warm and dry. Well, at least dry. Since it is already 0715 and it is raining, the traffic awful on the Turnpike, completely packed from 611 to 202. I imagine that this is what scene would look like if the Great Flood had happened in this age: the legions of sinners looking to get on Noah's ark, bumper to bumper, cursing at each other and exercising the most predatorial behavior to get an advantage over their fellow man. On top of it all, my head hurts from a low grade migraine. It makes this somewhat amusing experience that much less tolerable.
Get to work, find that Blogger will not let me access my account, and thus this late posting date. I bitch, moan and complain only to find that my complaint submissions are rejected by a system error. Eventually, I set up a second blog so that my complaint can be submitted (successfully) from there. Something was launched yesterday and bad things happened. I know that story all too well.