Of course, when I found that Novatech had finally, after two fucking months, sent back the kit that they'd been holding on to, I had to see if it would work. So much for sleep. There's something so relaxing about tearing a computer apart and swapping the guts around. After the requisite blood sacrifice, I gave it a shot. Boom. It works! It works!! Now, I need to bug spudtater about getting Debian working on an Athlon 64. But that can come later.
Headed to pub, where I was zombified at people for a while. Saw the Iron Bitch was in hospital (not dead yet, unfortunately), cheered, had my social three pints, and left far too early in order to pass out. For almost eight beautiful hours. I don't feel like shit at work, and this is a true surprise.
Thatcher's not dead yet. Fuck.
Supposedly meeting ophiuchus for pool and beer after work. He doesn't know that he can't smoke in the work-subsidised bar. This should be very entertaining...