2006-03-15 09:51![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldiscipline8 / 4 / 3 / 0 [1]
Tried a different routine at the gym last night, without a whole lot of success (I felt off anyways, and it didn't help much). Then I was dumb and ate chips, salsa, and frozen pizza and crashed hard. My body is telling me in no uncertain terms that a) I need more damn sleep, and b) I need to get the fuck away from heavily processed crap with preservatives in it, because it fucks with me in my sleep.
Jeeves is making progress on reintegrating into the productive end of society, and has an interview with the very nice recruiter who had been keeping an eye out for gigs for me (Patty Connor at KForce) tomorrow.
Hockey on Friday. Some office function with K's company at the Aquarium on Saturday. [note to Critus: this means we either won't make the gaming session, or would it be possible to reschedule? I emailed you, but I know you're stuck in training today].
Note to Self: Stop eating crap.
Note to Microsoft: Your Natural Keyboard Lite (or whatever the non-Pro version is called) is a minor abomination - the arrow keys are too fucking small, and that plus-sign layout they're in sucks more than a left-handed one-button mouse.
Note to Ayn Rand: I realize you're bitchy and have a philosophical axe to grind, and, five hundred-plus pages in, we've finally met the shadowy figure of mystery introduced in the first sentence of Atlas Shrugged, but that is no excuse for the guy to talk for two and a half pages straight, without pausing for so much as a fucking paragraph break. Believe me, I rant, and it's been said that I rant well, but I know enough to at least draw breath to avoid making my reader/listener's head go 'splody. Your stubborn, constipated, eat-this-whole-fucking-watermelon-uncut delivery of Galt's Manifesto is unnecessarily abusive of your audience, and undermines your argument by making it impossible to ingest. Even the guy from the Micro Machines commercials couldn't run that sucker off before people would be fidgeting and checking their watches.
[1] My thumbnail personality type, at least on a perky day, at the office, as measured by the service-oriented profile test we did in training, broken down as "Talker / Supporter / Doer / Controller." What I found to be interesting is that, when I'm in a bad mood, a lot of my answers flip almost 180 degrees, and I become a Doer/Controller, with almost no Supporter tendencies. Anyone who's seen me on the rare occasions this happens can probably vouch for this.
Tried a different routine at the gym last night, without a whole lot of success (I felt off anyways, and it didn't help much). Then I was dumb and ate chips, salsa, and frozen pizza and crashed hard. My body is telling me in no uncertain terms that a) I need more damn sleep, and b) I need to get the fuck away from heavily processed crap with preservatives in it, because it fucks with me in my sleep.
Jeeves is making progress on reintegrating into the productive end of society, and has an interview with the very nice recruiter who had been keeping an eye out for gigs for me (Patty Connor at KForce) tomorrow.
Hockey on Friday. Some office function with K's company at the Aquarium on Saturday. [note to Critus: this means we either won't make the gaming session, or would it be possible to reschedule? I emailed you, but I know you're stuck in training today].
Note to Self: Stop eating crap.
Note to Microsoft: Your Natural Keyboard Lite (or whatever the non-Pro version is called) is a minor abomination - the arrow keys are too fucking small, and that plus-sign layout they're in sucks more than a left-handed one-button mouse.
Note to Ayn Rand: I realize you're bitchy and have a philosophical axe to grind, and, five hundred-plus pages in, we've finally met the shadowy figure of mystery introduced in the first sentence of Atlas Shrugged, but that is no excuse for the guy to talk for two and a half pages straight, without pausing for so much as a fucking paragraph break. Believe me, I rant, and it's been said that I rant well, but I know enough to at least draw breath to avoid making my reader/listener's head go 'splody. Your stubborn, constipated, eat-this-whole-fucking-watermelon-uncut delivery of Galt's Manifesto is unnecessarily abusive of your audience, and undermines your argument by making it impossible to ingest. Even the guy from the Micro Machines commercials couldn't run that sucker off before people would be fidgeting and checking their watches.
[1] My thumbnail personality type, at least on a perky day, at the office, as measured by the service-oriented profile test we did in training, broken down as "Talker / Supporter / Doer / Controller." What I found to be interesting is that, when I'm in a bad mood, a lot of my answers flip almost 180 degrees, and I become a Doer/Controller, with almost no Supporter tendencies. Anyone who's seen me on the rare occasions this happens can probably vouch for this.
