pseydtonne: Behold the Operator, speaking into a 1930s headset with its large mouthpiece. (Default)
[personal profile] pseydtonne
Sometimes I just have to let myself admit I've reached my limit of work for the day.

I arrived at 10. It's about quarter after 7. I took maybe a half-hour worth of real break during this day. I've been writing elaborate emails all the rest.

This level of sounding adult on paper is surprisingly draining. I say to myself, "I'm sitting in a decent chair and I'm not passing out. Why can't I concentrate like I could four hours ago?" Well, it's obvious: I've stretched the professionalism muscle for hours and it needs a rest. It would be bad to write a letter to a customer that said "look honky, I don't f*ckin' know either. Why don't you send me some logs? I'm gonna read Fark for a while."

Funny thing: writing that crap answer above helped me just enough to focus on the penultimate item of my day. I really do need logs from this one guy. I could sum up what he sent as "look, it's slow. It said it again. Mommy!" Sheesh, we don't weld the hood shut the way most software does. Go read the server log and look for a giant honkin' Java error, eh?

Reading Fark for a little bit helped as well. Back to wrapping up.

-when I'm done I want a burger, Dante

August 2016

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