If this post gets a little gibberishy, I have a very good excuse. The best.
See, since I woke up around six ayem Saturday, I have not slept. Other than a quick nod in front of the TV while breakfast (canned corned beef hash) was sizzling, at least. I'm eating brekky now.
Why? It's a long story; I slept like a tired, tired thing, Friday-to-Saturday, 11 hours! --And I had to work an overnight shift, Saturday-to-Sunday. Alas -- of course -- there wasn't Nap One in me. I did manage a nice, long, relaxing and half-awake soak in the tub (if I had a hot tub or a lap pool, I'd be a semi-aquatic mammal) but that was all.
The work was one of those necessary but dreadful things: a live generator load test. That's live as in, "at oh-dark-thirty or a little earlier, we started up the megawatt generator and while the facility was in full, normal operation told the automatic switches to go kerchunking from perfectly good Power & Light power to our very own hand-knit power, with on a pathetic few tens of kilowatts of heaviliy-loaded UPSes to try to carry the building over the switch.
Naturally, madcap hijinks ensued; one gigabit ethernet switch simply curled up and bade this world farewell, a score of computers crashed (none super-critical but most of them darned annoying to lose), the opper-poppers began pipping instead of popping and in general, four, eventually five of us danced our way through a merry fire-drill of fail, reboot and try again.
It was serious. Matters stretched well past the cat's breakfast time and with Tam away at class, I could only imagine the mayhem Huck was committing, trying to get fed. Eventually we got it all done, or done enough, and I stumbled home, to feed the cats, open up a can of goodness (Mary Kitchen brand, still edible), pour a mug of tea and sit dizzily down here at the computer to relate the tale to you.
Really, all it's missing is QueeQueeg's coffin and a peg-leg sea captain dragged to the bottom of the sea by a dead or dying whale. Call me-- Tired. Or Sleepy. My breakfast is et and I'm ready for sleep.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago