April 9th, 2009


Signs That I May Be Spending Too Much Time At Work...

... and/or not enough time in bed:

Yesterday evening, I was sprawled on the couch with C., blearily switching channels on the TV, and as it came to me that the switching was really fast and smooth and pleasantly devoid of lag, something clicked inside my mind and the following thought popped up:

"Gee, this sure is working so much better since I cleaned up the database."

... Yeah. Maybe I'm going to set database optimization aside for a few days.

In other, baby-related news, he's being a remarkable pain in various areas, first and foremost the butt and the ears, but then cunningly keeps me from developing lasting resentment and an urge to legally change his name to Gulliver Barnaby the Sexless, Third of the Name: the little bastard looks me in the eye and SMILES TO ME.

Of course, he doesn't do that to his mother. Doesn't need to, see: she's genetically conditioned to be his tireless personal servant day in, day out, a fact which he's been mirthfully abusing from about day one.

Also, I've been having the writing bug for days on end now, but can't seem to make anything worthwhile of it beyond unfinished fragments of stuff. Story of my life.