Getting to that. See, today, I committed technodultery.
*sighs* I cheated on my work computer with another one. Very traumatic--to both. At least, that's the only explanation I can come up with as to why the computer I was training on today KEPT LOGGING ME OUT EVERY FIVE SECONDS.
So, I have a theory.
All these computers are networked--kind of. People who do this sort of thing know what it's called, but there we are. I logged into the training computer, and obviously, my One True Work Computer recognized my login, despite the fact I was miles away at the training facility. Insta!rage. So it obviously started a barrage attack on my training computer in a jealous, molten rage of possessive anger.
It's a delicate thing, balancing the computers in my life. I want to make them feel secure, loved, appreciated. My home computer, of course, understands I am whimsical and also, cannot take it to work with me every day. It knows its place in my life. My work computer? Not so much. I think the fact I've only really had it for a month is screwing with its self-esteem--our adjustment period after it's First True User left was difficult, but I felt we had a connection. I think, when I get back to the office on Friday, we're going to need to have a long talk about boundaries and flings with foreign computers that don't detract from how I feel about it.
Until then, a tech is working on my training computer to see why on earth it was acting like it took a high dose of PCP.
I've named work computer Max, by the way. Training computer may be called a variety of expletitives, none of which are appropriate for polite company. Luckily, none of you are. *g*
stalkingeric is the place to be. Totally. Where bexless is writing this funny, cute, FUNNY, adorable, VERY COOL College!Clark and College!Lex fic. The definitive one. Also probably the first one, so definitely definitive. It's called Roomies, three parts so far.
Also, box_of_serial is puttering along nicely as Liv hits part 26 of Altville and man, I want to marry her and make her write for me ALL THE TIME. Which is, well, kind of disturbing, don't you think?
And on Saturday, dammitcarl posted Truth in Smoke at selling_out. How the Band Got Together. Oh mmmm. You rock, honey. So very much.
Apparently, watching SpongeBob SquarePants on repeat is just a bad idea any way you look at it.
Take Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy, who are possibly my new OTP.
I shouldn't slash cartoon character. Especially octogenarian ones. You'd think that would be a given. But no. They share a bathroom. They wear pajamas constantly. And please, ward? Like I bought that with Batman! I sat there, with soda, dead sober, watching this, going, huh. Why am I seeing this? Did someone drug me? Do I NEED to be drugged?
Similar issues arise with Rocket Power, and yes, you know which two strangely single, no-women-around, constantly vacationing and reminiscing together men I speak of.
My brain scares me badly. I won't even go into the strange chemistry of Patrick and Squidwarts, especially with that entire best-friends, bathtubs-thing in that one ep, and this is where I officially send in my reservation for the handbasket.
*sighs* And here I never believed TV rotted your brain.
I'm finishing up the 'why did I friend you' meme thingie, so if anyone wants to be added, feel free to toss your name in the ring. Hat in the ring. Hat-ring? Is a ring even involved?
Oh God, I'm tired AND rotting.