a wolf angel is not a good angel

I got the script to work, including a (for me) complicated regex that worked on the first try. I remembered to bring biscotti for lunch — I’ve been eating heavy meals and it makes me sad, and biscotti aren’t exactly healthy, but they are yummy. And they’re not terribly bad for you. It is nice today, though I am bringing my bike in today (true my wheel! grease my chain! They only *sound* dirty), so I can’t bike until this weekend, when it’s supposed to rain. But maybe it won’t! And post my trip to eastern Europe (planned Germany part is likely to be turned into a planned Hungary part; I’m hoping LiL has advice) I have, maybe, a trip to Belize, which will cost just the cost of the flight (which I do not want to imagine, given it will be over winter holidays). And, um, no period? I guess this is good, sort of.

We take our happy moments where we can get them.

Despite the fact that I was awake around 6.15 (and trying to work out a way to write an easy script to do something that I need to do Friday, but is more interesting than what I need to do now: I think this will be easy, modulo my remembering the syntax for grep), and was having breakfast around 7.30, thinking, wow, I can get to work early for once, it’s now 8.30, and I’m not dressed.

But I’ll be at work closer to 9 than 10 today.

Maybe.

Update: No.

It is not a web blog.

Bike store seems to be shut today, so I cannot phone about the tune-up. Well, okay, though you’d think they’d be open for the increased traffic on this holiday for lots-of-not-me-type-people. I will perhaps put off the bike-seat-buying until tomorrow, just in case.

No news on where my old bike has disappeared to.

Anyways it’s rainy today; I wasn’t going to be cycling anywhere.

I took my bike out today, and I was unhappy. My back wheel’s out of true; my front brake makes weird sounds; my seat is tilted and uncomfortable. The last thing has been a problem since I had an accident biking home one day, and will be fixed shortly by my purchasing a new seat. The others will probably be fixed as soon as I can phone a bike shop to schedule a tune-up.

My older bike seems to be missing, which makes me sad, because I loved that bike, and it’s useful to have several. It’s also lighter than my new one.

But I am seriously overly unhappy about this. Hello (I hope) period?

Stuart McLean is funny and everything, but sometimes he really comes off as a parody of himself.

I try to post daily, in some weird bet with myself, but some days I have absolutely nothing to say.

A day of being sort of sick ensures that you start to get caught up on sleep, something I likely wouldn’t've done, otherwise. So I guess that’s good.

The story of my finger is this:

I was rollerblading, and I fell. Badly. On ONE finger. (Who does that, anyways?) Went to the hospital, where my father fell asleep in the waiting room and my sister (then almost 5) trailed around after me as I got x-rays done and stuff. Found out how doctors treat me when they think I’m a teenage mom (”you shmushed your finger”) and then when they find out that I’m not (”you broke the knuckle into many small pieces which got moved around”): unimpressed by this.

Have surgery by super incompetent doctor! I love Demerol more than anything else in the world! Being on painkillers during Passover really sucks. The pins are not strong enough or left in long enough, so the finger slowly gets bad again.

My index finger can bend, but it is also not straight, in the sense that it overlaps with my RING finger. Eventually, this gets on my nerves too much (also, it hurts) and I see more doctors to get more reconstructive surgery. More surgery! They cut out a piece of bone so that it overlaps out a bit to compensate for it overlapping in (this is when the anaesthesiologist, after finding out that I was scared of surgery, asked me if it was because I was scared I wouldn’t wake up. The comment still amazes me). It no longer *bends*, but I also am not constantly whacking it with my other finger. I have to point with my middle finger, usually overlappign with my index finger, but often I forget and point with just the middle, or just the middle on my other hand.

This surprises many of my bosses.

Well, I might be a chicken, but look! A gross photo of my finger!

(more…)