The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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my life in short, including samauri
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
Work hates me. I'd actually go into detail on this, but the detail is boring. However, I can detail that the build after the one I'm currently testing I was (ridiculously) worried that all five of my assignments seemed smaller than I'd been given recently and my lead had taken teh two biggest. Please shut up; I know what you're thinking. Anyway, I worried I hadn't done a good job with the last huge build etc adn faith had been tested in my work, because when I'm not overworked this is the shit I think up, and then realized one of them was testing the Oracle update.

I have never, I think, actually talked about the last Oracle update. I wasn't directly responsible for planning the testing, as I wasn't in this section of testing. I also possibly blocked it out in horror. People talk of it in whispers. Loud ones.

I can't tell if this is proof that there is faith in my work or a hope I'll finally snap.



I have become, when my lead is absent, the go-to girl for information on our testing. I don't know why, but I ahve a theory; my lead sits beside me, and when she's gone, no one wants to walk further, so they come to me. I'm actually serious about this, but it gets more surreal.

As it turns out, this is the top one way to get me to learn shit; I hate not having answers. It drives me nuts. This is because if I don't, I will research it, and then somehow end up removing the entire problem from their hands, arguing with coders and BAs, and generally harassing everyone on a problem that has nothing to do with me but by God I will solve it or die trying. They know I do this. I mean, I have snatched away the most obscure freaking problems to run into the ground like the weakest gazelle in the herd. I will stalk the problem later. Normal people just say "I don't know". I have successfully managed to do this maybe twice without running down the poor person later, grabbing their problem, and going to town.

I have no idea where this particular characteristic comes from, to be honest. I am a fucking slacker and I am lazy like you have no idea, but some part of my brain snaps on like a light of personal vendetta when something goes wrong in the vaguest sphere of my influence. It's weird. It's taking valuable cracked.come time. It leads to spreadsheets.

I'm saying, something is wrong with me.





What you have to understand about when the state decides to move you to a new building, they do it in a way that justifies the word surreptitious, but in a very strange, uncomfortable way. I have a theory that the platonic ideal move would be for us to suddenly wake up at the new office with no clear idea how we got there; they are that secretive with details. Like, they think we don't have to pack, or it's supposed to be done in a fugue state; I have no explanation for how this works, because official word is just--weird. But supposedly, we are moving by the end of the year or just after the new year. In theory. Or so the skulking seems to indicate. We were honestly surprised to wrangle actual floor plans of where we might be moving.



I'm hoping to get Monday off for reasons and this week so far is not shaping up to go well at all. Also, I'm reading during breaks the most horrible Pride and Prejudice spin-off series I have ever had the misfortune to see, and yet I keep going. I can't explain it except okay, one scene: a Transylvanian princess and a Japanese samauri whose boyfriend committed seppaku with her husband's help during her and her husband's run from her murderous father and end up in Japan after fleeing through St. Petersburg and spending time with a famous Jewish philosopher in possibly Siberia have a swordfight in the middle of the road in Derbyshire on a theoretical point of honor. Also, the husband's brother is married to Caroline Bingley and they sekritly adopt the illegitimate son of the Regent (her husband's boss) and a dying prostitute. And a Scotsman swung from the ceiling of Pemberley in a kilt to rescue Darcy from the Scotsman's murderous younger brother and later ended up marrying Georgiana. I cannot make this up. And this is like, not even the least believable.

Honest to God, these are not well written (at all, even by accident) and kind of hideously anachronistic in various ways, but I read this just to wonder what is going to happen next.

Posted at Dreamwidth: http://seperis.dreamwidth.org/949909.html. | You can reply here or there. | comment count unavailable comments

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I'm sorry, I will need title or links to that series because my mental wiring will not allow an insane summary to pass. ::flaily hands:: It's so random!

Marsha Altman's series. IT's like, five books plus a short 3 story anthology and will have another book, I can feel it. It is not great writing but it is that goddamn random. Also, there is, I kid you not, the most perfect Mary Sue ever in Darcy's illegitimate monk-saint brother Gregoire. I even fell in love with him. He performs miracles and has a sekrit dead saint buddy.

The Darcy's and the Bingleys - i am totally brutally linking you. It is only going to get weirder from here on out. Just saying.

I will say this; it is rewarding in the sense that no matter what you think, it will get weirder.

DUDE, they moved us 3 years ago, when there was stimulus money, and now they are moving us back as soon as the lease runs out, because there is no more money.

..."a Transylvanian princess and a Japanese samauri whose boyfriend committed seppaku with her husband's help"...


It's like that time when I ate cornnuts and couldn't stop even though they're crappy and shatter teeth. Man, I am glad I quit drugs...

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