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She likes my journal !!

OAT at the office.
January 11th, 2000

That Last Part
Last night was a night spent deleting unused software from my boot drive (do I need PhotoShop 4.0, 5.0 and 5.5? Page Mill 2 and 3, which I never use, along with two versions of Dreamweaver, which I at least think about using? Nikon scanner? Oh, shit! That one I needed! Reinstall, mutter, mutter.) and running Diskeeper, a program for Windows NT used to defragment hard drives, something NT cannot do by itself. My poor hard drive. Diskeeper displayed messages after each iteration suggesting I was not only in deep shit, no question about it, but there was some question as to my character, my suitability for computer stewardship. What kind of a person allows his hard drive to degenerate to this low condition? My kind, Mr. Diskeeper sir. My kind.

I did have an odd experience though, not posting yesterday. I'd missed Friday and Saturday as well, of course, so I found myself avoiding my referrer logs, feeling a little embarrassed that people had come by and I'd not posted, rather like leaving the light on Halloween eve and then not having any candy for callers. Weird. Not that there's any agreement here, explicit agreement anyway, but there's a certain undercurrent of ego if not concern that I'm at least putting up a picture that falls into the "well, they're OK, I guess. Some kind of out of focus shadows on the wall artsy stuff" and the sentences read smoothly even if they don't seem to mean anything. (I worry when I read them later and they don't make sense. Not sure why. These things have never worried me in the past.) I'll recover.

Had a nice lunch. Five of us went to PCB (Pacific Coast Brewing). It was raining, but PCB was nice and warm and three of us ordered the sparkling cider. Mild, about 4% alcohol, made the noon hour stretch out comfortably while eating cheese and sausage with finger thick French bread rounds followed by a sliced green apple. The three ladies were discussing marriage, two of them planning to marry their significant others at some point this year and the third in the middle of her second divorce giving relatively upbeat pointers. Some talk, a little dispirited, I thought, from the two ladies on the very verge on how to handle marriage in a way that had some chance of success. So many ugly divorces. Too much experience with unpleasant statistics. I kept my mouth shut. What do I know about any of this? These are young women at the start, after all, and I am an old fart at the finish. A curious about things old fart at the finish, but at the finish, none the less. Otherwise I would have introduced the concept of prenuptial agreements. As I said, lunch proved comfortable and enlightening.

Drove in to work. Not a second thought about it. I'll walk tomorrow. The day was dark and Ronn in Napa last week. cloudy and rainy and I was running late and the hell with it. A five minute drive, $5 to park for the day, dry and warm when I arrived. Drink a cup of hot coffee and check email. I'd gotten a call last night from our help desk about a server problem in Singapore. Shit. Singapore. Servers. Where are my phone numbers? I'm a desktop expert (in name, if not fact, refer to the defrag problems discussed above) and servers are a whole different set of people at the company who's phone numbers I don't keep here at home. Call some beepers, call some mobile phones, turn the problem over to my manager who I learn spends another hour on the phone chasing down support for Singapore. This information revolution is far from finished, methinks. It moves quickly, yes, but not quickly enough and I don't seem to move at all sitting here in my apartment watching Diskeeper snigger and burp out results on my monitor. "Delete files! Run again! Get a life!" What was that last part?

The banner photograph was taken at the office last week. I shot the photo of Ronn when I visited him in Napa.