For years I've thought I'd been a possible cog in a cultural shift. I felt pretty good about myself. But I never knew for sure. An opportunity came to flat-out ask someone if I had been a cog and they said I was not.I held onto that—that I was a possible cog—like you would not believe. So I lost it. I lost that feeling of having been possibly cog-awesome. Oh sure, I'm still awesome. I'm just not the possibly cog-awesome person I thought I was.
Articles from Harrangue Man
The silver gaffer tape keeping the hole closed on the top of my left ugg boot frayed so I had to re-gaff the hole with black gaffer tape, which now matches the black tape on the matching boot covering a like hole. They're so old and shapeless with the matching colored tape I'll have trouble telling them apart.
It was a big day. A big, exhausting day. I had a pit crew meeting. While it was an anxiety-riddled event I got praised for good work—that I was an asset respected for his gumption and talent. It was nice to hear. I know I'm awesome but it's far more awesome to have someone else say it than me. If I say it I just sound like a tool.Post meet I ached in the tum and my body was sore.
With thanks to Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series.I wrote an email saying I should be given away as a present to another area. It was an odd email to write about one's self but from a macro viewpoint it made total sense.I've always been the person who can see the forest despite the trees—and it's no different when it comes to me.
I knowingly and publicly stole a pen from a recent pokie palace visit—I was at reception, held their pen up and said "I need a pen; can I please have it?" and they did not say no—but it was sans pen led and of the tubular kind.Which means when I place it on the book in the shed where I note my exercise and other metrics unless the book is flat the pen rolls off and into the innards of the box of crap the book sits on.So I needed to make the stolen pen stop rolling.
I sent a third ping as per one of my three, six and 12 month goals upon re-spawn. I got a ping back—another faint one but a confirmation ping nonetheless.It felt good to have fired another shot into the dark. I spent the day carving up PDFs and converting some of them to Word to meet accessibility. Sometimes there's a preceding text, sometimes you have to rebuild it. I lost my day slicing and dicing then writing and uploading.
I've been working long enough to have been involved in a tender process. Let me stress how horrid it is to be involved in a tender process—writing it, reading it, vetting it, whatever it is the process sucks brass door knobs. Which I imagine would be both difficult and irritating to suck.I got chucked into prepping a document from a panel of providers and the rusted-old tender skills, honed over that short span of my career where I had to be involved in a tender, kicked in.
I've done a seasonally adjusted Punxsutawney Phil and emerged into doing things again—especially at night.
I settled back into a long labour of fixing a massive page of weblinks—each link broken and dated to a time of using a different content management tool. Clicking on a link took you to a busted re-direct, but looking up a link's properties allowed me to check the original site it was going to to check if it was still going.
Being mobility impaired—I can walk but it hurts and my knees sometimes feel they will split any second—I have to use lifts instead of stairs, even if going just a floor or two.I also have my delicious cheek scar. As luck would have it the lift cars I've been taking of late are the ones I got lit up with LEDs, the luminescence significantly increased.