I actually got six hours sleep last night, an hour up on what I normally get. The difference is certainly noticeable. Work was fine for the morning, but with the developer I needed to quiz gone for the afternoon along with the boss I got back to upgrading my Perl-fu. Nothing like reading some of Claudio Calvelli's regexp insanity to make one realise that they really don't know much at all. Nothing else I could do, the test plans are all written for tomorrow.
Thinking of work, my legs are getting more and more stiff every morning. Too much excercise without enough time to rest. On the other hand, I was reminded that I'm going to end up with toned legs but a sexy arse as well, so I ain't complaining. Just have to track down some very tight jeans for the pictures. I ain't doing the online porn-star gig — even softcore — unless you pay in advance.
Oh, locked post below this one. I reiterate my usual reminder that people should log in before reading just in case, or they might miss something. I don't tend to lock much but what I do lock is usually important enough (to me) to warrant it.
In other news, a break from the family would be nice at some point. I'm finally feeling the burn of harsh time-zones which I have been free of since I got the fuck out of Germany, and the last thing I need during the slight space of time I have to do everything online is my brother prattling on at me. My parents are usually in bed by the time someone interesting gets on, but having him plonk his fat arse down with a six-pack and go hunting through the TV channels when I just want some time without people around when I can pretend that it's later than it is.
Going back to the work-think for a moment... 7:30 is predawn. It is in fact pre-predawn, that state of time known to the same as "night". By 8:15, when I leave the house, the sun is well and truly up. I've not seen the sunrise for the longest of times, and now that I have to I have to wake up before it (rather than going to bed just after it) it pisses me off not to see it.
Away from work, I have become addicted to salami, in the store-bought form. Big hunks sliced off with my Leatherman blade and eaten straight from the knife. I scare my cow-orkers with how much meat I consume. None of them are vegetarian, or I would have to go into the "normal human option" rant, though I'd probably spare them anyway. They all hate the Scum with a passion. OTOH, there is the usual work socialisation, consisting of near alcoholism. Oddly enough for people who don't know me well, such evenings are not my idea of a great night out. I may call it off until I can ride to the pub with them and then use the "but I've got to drive home" excuse, at least until I know people better. Too much potential for bad shite otherwise.
And with that, I sign off.