Thursday, August 20, 2009
high pressure pascal
I had a shit day yesterday. If stress was a foodstuff, it would be a giant eisbein wrapped in ostrich hide, marinated in crude oil, dusted in buck droppings, and presented in a Tupperware.
Tough and tasty.
I have upgraded to a new work computer, just as well, the other one completely fucked out, pre-presentation of course.
Well, the admin. The sheer manual manifestations that arise from transferring data, downloads, tools, applications, bookmarks, DATA CARDS onto a new machine. Good God.
My 3G card wouldn’t work, and after repeated installing-uninstalling [what a jol], I was on the phone to tech support overseas for 2 hours, and another hour spent on the line to MTN.
Who actually proved helpful in the end, after they taught me what to ‘configure and disable.’ They couldn’t do it themselves, they tried, and still endless gnashing of teeth and mutterings of ‘Fucking thing isn’t fucking working for crying in a piss bucket.’
I got home and configured all sorts of things by myself – God knows what they are now – and, eureka, suddenly, it fucking worked.
Generally though, a day governed by Crappy O’Crappyson and his Molotov cocktail-wielding minions.
Did get a facial though. That was the highlight of the entire day. But I also asked about this funny thing that’s on my cheek. It looks like a mole, but it hasn’t been there forever. She said if it hasn’t been there for long, I must go and get it checked out by a dermo. “Because it could be cancerous.”
Oh that’s just fucking peachy.
I’m scared of the dentist and I’m scared of the dermatologist. They fix things, but it usually hurts like a bitch.
So. Forgive me for dragging my heels, but is she going to dig out my…whatever it is? And what happens if she sees Sally?
Sally is the mole I’ve had since I was born, that sits in perfect symmetry between my noombies, Hannah and Elizabeth.
Sally’s been around a long time. No-one’s just going to just cut her off. My body.
So am a bit peeved that this may be a life or death situation, this thing on my face. And now I’m going to worry, and there’s probably nothing wrong with it. I mean you can hardly notice it.
Jason on a journey, mate. As Dove aptly said. Yeah. So.
Mini-break holiday starts tonight.
I’ll think I’ll kick it off by going for a little mini-bender with Doc, Dove and company after work.
And hopefully, in doing so, man-up. Enough to go to the bloody dermatologist.