The lack of update yesterday was mainly to give you a break from having to read this crap. That, and in place of my usual nightcap I downed significantly more, to the point of being unable to type properly. But it was another day of too much work to do, not enough energy to do it. And of course of being bitched at because I "sit around all day doing nothing even when I claim to be working". How do they come to this fascinating judgment? Because I have the TV on. What a fucking amazing leap of logic there. I have the TV on, so I cannot be working. Never mind background noise. Never mind that I'm thinking. And of course in the face of such snap judgments I have to `realign my attitude' as it is getting harder for my parents to talk to me. Leaving me the fuck alone might stop me snapping at them, who knows? Not asking me how it's going every ten minutes might help as well. I swear, they learn from manglers the world over, they do.
Today... today was mostly good, mainly as I've been cracking on with Fallout Tactics and the house was empty for a good five hours. The progress made on work has still not been much, I have to say, though I now have a better idea of what I'm doing. If I can continue without interruption tomorrow I may well manage to get a serious amount of shite done.
Tangent: I had to get some shite printed, and I find out only today that my brother has swapped out our old printer (for which I had drivers) for a new one. Which has no drivers as "Well, XP has everything on it already". Fucker. That he's even using XP says it all. Fortunately, I'm only saved by finding an old CD compilation of drivers I'd saved since getting Orpheus in his first iteration that I'd happened to leave at home in case of emergencies. Score one for random planning.
Of course, the parents had to go out and get drunk after this. Of course, they came back and pissed me off by being drunk. There's just something wrong when my mother grabs a 20-page printout of my code, takes a cursory glance through it despite my protestations that she'd not have the first buggering clue what the damn thing was going on about, and then proceeds to say "Well, I'd give this an A."
I REALLY COULD NOT GIVE ANY LESS OF A SHIT IF I HAD SEWN MY OWN ARSE SHUT WITH BARBED WIRE!!
It's program code. She's fucking clueless about computers. The code is Perl and if I may say so reasonably obfuscated, if only because it's faster to type that way. She hasn't a chance of telling my code from a description of Satan's bollocks written in ancient Lemurian. Add to that in my haste I stapled the pages in completely the wrong order... the only way this would be graded above a D is if the assessor were dyslexic. Fucking moron. As if I care what some drunken neo-Luddite has to say about work that I'm in the middle of doing and that I don't take kindly to being disturbed from. Do me a lemon, but that pissed me off.
Now I sign off, with yet another glass of vodka and razor-blades at my side.
: The stress of the number of deadlines I have coming in far too close is making it hard for me to sleep while sober. That and drinking is easier when you don't pay for the booze.
: Whilst technically true, I'm trying to work. I'm still trying to fix a program and getting my hind brain to think it over is the easiest way.