Did you ever feel like you were standing on the deck of a sinking ship? Should you "bail" or should you bail? For now, I'm trying my damndest to bail water faster than it's pouring in, but it's hard. The latest project undertaken here at work has not been implemented well. They had high hopes for an automated install, which did not work as expected. They ran a scan to see if things were installed properly, based on the presence of an add-on, only to find that their logic was faulty - it turns out it's possible to have the add-on without the base program, which they didn't scan for, and it's possible to have the add-on located in different directory on the PC and still have it work. Welcome to Friday before D-Day. Tomorrow they are upgrading the server, come hell or high water. Monday all machines have to have the new client to work. My machines have all been tested by hand and are okay, so my folks are fine. I may find my weekend filled with bailing out the rest of this joint, though. {Sigh} I need a bigger bucket.
Here I stand again, speaking to an empty room. My thoughts aren't worth the cyberspace they would take up if I cared to tweet or post to Facebook, but here I stand anyway. I had no idea how long it had been since my muse had forced me to write. I used to write almost daily, poetry mostly, when I was younger and believed that someone cared what I had to say. I wanted to be e.e. cummings or T.S. Eliot or anyone who seemed to be so comfortable in his own skin to pour out his emotions onto a blank page. It took me a few years to realize that the writers who filled my pantheon of literary deities were not that comfortable after all, but wrote because not writing was more painful than the spilling of emotion. So I think I will take up my keyboard once more, wade out into the battle, and write.
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