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Where to go with this one? I'm only working a half-day today as I'm scheduled for that nuclear treadmill I mentioned last Tuesday. The doc, who's a for-real hot-shot cardiologist, wasn't completely satisfied with what he saw. So, it's off to the races again. Literally. Hopefully, it means I'm just running on the edge of what they consider 'normal'.
No, I don't know how yesterday's <Most Recent> tag ended up down on Sunday. ...but, then again, it was Monday. ...and hopefully you didn't need it<g>
We're back. I've been isotoped (I thought that was a sixties thing). ...and scanned. ...and had my tail run off. I found a minor problem with not being in terrible shape: the treadmill is a bear. You see, if you're the typical overweight, out of shape, over the speed bump (I refuse to dignify it as even a 'hill') treadmill candidate, you waltz in; they put the machine on a teeny, tiny incline at .00007 mph, and really, really soon you are out of breath and your heart is racing and your blood pressure is through the roof and the doc is real happy 'cause he got what he wanted which was your sorry tail draggin' and your heart maxed out so he can kinda' get a clue about how bad off you are if you didn't just up and die on the treadmill...
However... If you exercise even moderately, they have to kick the incline of the treadmill up every few minutes. ...and, when they do that, they also increase the speed of the device. It's the same goal: to get your heart up to 90 percent of allowable (as determined by insurance actuary tables???) and have your sorry tail draggin' just like the other guy. It just takes longer and gives you the equivalent of a poorly planned workout (too quick a ramp-up and no gradual cool down). (hmmm...) Nah; ain't going there...
Anyway, I survived the process; Shelley survived the waiting (not easy for a hands-on EMT); and we both made it home much later than planned (I'll tell that story elsewhere). ...and I have to go back this morning for another round of radioactive juice in my veins. Sheesh.
We aren't layout artists; but we handle the copy for several departments.
We aren't technical rescue; but we need to know the difference between a Rescue 8 with ears and a Gibbs Ascender. We also now know what rope dip is; and we're sorry about the sheep dip incident...
We aren't typographers; but we need to know what will fit and how to tweak line spacing. ...and kerning.
We're not IT; but we'd best know not to assume PCI for a video card. ...and that they really don't need that 32mb monster. ...unless the order is for two (that'd be the head geek and the GM). EverQuest must be back...
We're not fleet; but we best know where to find cryogenic-treated brake rotors.
We're not Human Resources; but we best know which manager uses which calendar refill.
We're not fleet; but we'd best keep track of every VIN. ...including the trailer for the golf cart.
We're not technical rescue; and we're darn sure not going to spec ropes for them (I get mine at Ace Hardware).
We're not plant services; but we'd best know which cable or satellite service handles which areas of which county.
We're not IT, but we spec the processors. (Dunno'...)
We're not IT and that's damned obvious 'cause we're both running P-200s.
We're not graphic artists; but Adobe PhotoShop needs more than that P-200 under the next desk.
'Cause we're not Graphic Arts; but we turn out most of the artwork.
---and---
We're not shipping; so we can't tell people where to send things.
We're not Central Supply; so we can't tell people where to put things...
your source for paper,
copy and otherwise...
</rant>
Short and sweet today as there's been a lot happening at the old homestead...
I've been spending my evenings working on the church site. That old adage about never volunteering came back to haunt me. ...but it's a chance to expand my skill set. ...and I get to work with an excellent graphic artist. ...and he get's to see what hand-coding can do<g>. In the meantime, the Children's Ministries Director gets her own personal webmaster. She needs one; the lady is an idea generator. Her first email to me, with her thoughts on the redesign, essentially overflowed the screen. This will be one interesting ride...
...and I threw a sample commercial site up last night for a businessman I deal with. I have no idea where that could lead.
I guess I've been hanging around Tom a little too long: even the thought of not being overloaded is cause for piling on more work...
HooWheeeee... I am so glad this week is winding down. First the treadmill stuff, then two Christmas programs the last two evenings, and I find I'm further behind than I care to be at work...
Man, just give me a day or two off... I haven't even been able to get a handle on the Christmas gig. ...and I owe my mother a phone call (and a visit). Whine, whine, whine... I won't even get into the computer behindedness I'm experiencing.
So give me that weekend! I have batteries to recharge.
I could only wish for this level of control:
4:20:38. Thompson: Got to get it over again. At least upside down we were flying.
Okay, If you simply must have Elf Bowling...
Banned from more corporate intranets than porn...
We figured out how to have a quieter Christmas
down at the office...Erik also suggested we change the number to something simpler to remember. Like "0"...
...and Donna offered to forward all those calls to my line (I quit; I know when I'm beat).
...and in keeping with today's silliness: one way to use liquid nitrogen to make ice cream.
...and when they lock me away, I hope it's in wintertime; that way I can cut out snowflakes instead of paper dolls...
Gosh, I'd really like to tell you all about the exciting, computer-filled day I had yesterday, but I just simply cannot. Nope, not at all. No excitement. No computers. Not much of anything really.
Let's see, I slept in late for the first time in I don't know how long; got up and decided I didn't want to even cook; declared a baked pastrami and mozzarella on potato bread would qualify as 'brunch'; caught up on some email with the grinch and the sunshine girl (covering all the bases<g>) while brunch cooked; caught the end of the Pittsburgh game and much of the Seattle game (I fell asleep in the recliner with two minutes to go. ...and missed the ending!); ate dinner and decided since nothing much had been accomplished as yet, I might as well finish the book I've been working on for two weeks... All in all, one heck of a day.
Ummm, it does appear the story of the Fronkensteen monster is almost complete... As she was reclining in the recliner after a long day running herself into the ground with the Christmas shopping spirit, Shelley looked over and said, "You know, posting from a laptop here would sure beat walking all the way to the back..." Uh-huh... She knoweth not what she says. But, as the astute reader already knows, once all the pieces of the puzzle are in place, she will indeed be able to post from the recliner. ...while watching TV. ...over the wireless network (Linux to Linux). ...out to the Net. ...whilst watching TV.
All content Copyright 1999, 2000 Daniel C. Bowman. All rights reserved.