There should be a law that they are not allowed to knock on your door until the afternoon. 9:30am is just not the time to be knocking on people's door trying to sell the the way of our lord. I was going to tell them what I thought of the good lord at 9:30, but they were very young and I might have hurt their delicate ears. Or something. Next time I'll just wear my Satan T-Shirt and grin like a mad bastard.
Work was busy as hell yesterday. Got to work only to discover that smell of fresh turd on a fan. There's been quite of bit of that at work lately, and a few people have had rockets inserted into nasty places so I've been told. I've been a good boy though and managed to avoid the rocket insertion plan. Our new network is rolling ahead, and it's just having a few (non-technical) teething issues, the usual type of stuff.
Anyway we knocked off yesterday about 4pm for a well earned beer at the local pub with Tony (the guy I work with) and a few of his mates. We had a great time, sitting outside in the sun, watching the world go buy, and bitching about everyone and everything. As you do. It was only interupted when the boss called wanting me to update a spreadsheet and send it back. So I had to quickly duck back to the office to do that. Still, he never discovered I was at the pub in the firsts place! Not that it would have mattered, I think after the week we've had we're entitled to knock off a bit early and drink lagers. It's in my contract, I'm sure.
So I finally got home and what happens? Yes, the network fell over in a screaming heap! At least it wasn't our network, it was Telstra Australia's. Not much I could do about that, except drink beer and watch TV, which is exactly what I did.
I've been here for a year! I can't belive it. I'm not sure of the exact date I flew into New Zealand, but it was around this time. A year. Wow.
Anyway, it's Saturday. I get to lie in bed, be slack and not care. Sounds like a work day actually.
Tim
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