I drove 45 miles to plug a hub back in and came back to find all our E-Mail accounts completely wiped.
I need a fucking drink.
(Update, 11:40 AM: on reinstall, it looks like they're all back up, thank Baby Jesus. Also, thank Jewish God, Allah, and Tom Cruise with his witchcraft.)
(Update 2, 11:45 AM: somebody sent me an E-Mail page to inform me that the E-Mail server was down. Have you noticed how the vast majority of computer users do not think things through?)
The East Valley has picked up a pair of serial killers, and I can't wake up to NPR in the morning without hearing about them.
Tuesday morning I woke up to the shocking announcement that the Baseline Killer may be concealing his identity by not always wearing the same hat.
"This is Papa Bear. Put out an APB for a male suspect, driving a...car of some sort, heading in the direction of, uh, you know, that place that sells chili. Suspect is hatless. Repeat, hatless."
Now, judging by an article in The Arizona Republic, it sounds like the Phoenix PD has actually gone a long way toward narrowing down the killer's physical appearance, but really, is the fact that he might sometimes wear a different hat newsworthy?
"Holy shit, it's that serial killer I heard about on the news! ...No, wait, that can't be him; where's his fishing hat?"
Reading: Finished American Gods; on to Catch-22. Finally working my way through my miles-high "to-read" list.
Had a rough day at work. Now, I'm not a Catholic, and I never made it through The Divine Comedy, so I'm not really sure whether my day at work was Hell or simply Purgatory, but I can eliminate Heaven right off.
And I got to thinking...you know, as soon as I get home, I'm going to the fridge and grabbing a fucking beer.
But then I thought, you know what? No. As soon as I get home, I'm hitting the gym.
And I did, and I feel much better for it.
I think I'll reward myself with a beer.