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plonqT'was the night before Christmas and the office all through, was vacant, save a cat with a project past due. With his snow leopard whiskers all flaccid and flayed like a badge of the overworked and underpaid he was scrolling through code of spaghetti and cruft in the hopes he could fix the routine that he'd muffed. By his elbow, a mug filled with coffee long cold sat amid many rings of past coffees untold.
As his tired brain struggled through Byzantine twists of untraceable calls to illogical lists, the rotund little feline was forced to confess that his terse, cryptic code was a hot steaming mess. Though he tweaked and debugged, Plonq continued to curse for with each recompile things just got a bit worse. Then he glanced at the time, and his heart gave a twerk as it slowly sunk in he'd spend Christmas at work.
The cat snatched up his mug in a slosh of cold brew, and he stomped to the break room with vigour anew. He would take a short break to relax and rewind in the hopes that the rest would refresh his tired mind. As he pondered, and puzzled, and sipped his fresh cup, he reluctantly knew things were not looking up when amidst the morass of his growing despair came a clear, lucid vision of what to repair. But his elegant fix had a mighty big catch, as he'd have to rewrite the procedure from scratch.
But the vision was clear, and he knew what to do as he set to redo the whole thing through and through. The cat coded and tested, wrote documentation and guzzled back coffee to fuel inspiration. And as the first light of a new Christmas morn shone its first golden rays, his new project was born. It compiled without errors and ran without hitch. It was fast and efficient and free of all glitch.
"It's too good to be true," purred the cat with a yawn -- to awake in the break room some hours before dawn.
In a glum realization and tooth-baring scowl, the short dumpy feline let loose a long yowl. It had all been a dream; all the copy and paste. All the hacks and debugging had all been a waste. It was clear to the cat as he pondered and stewed that he'd fallen asleep while his fresh coffee brewed. He considered his options, and then grabbed his jacket and donned it amidst an invective-filled racket.
"It is way long past due," groused the cat with a curse, "so another week longer will not make it worse." He donned mittens and boots, and when suitably bundled, he signed off his workstation, turned tail and trundled out into the cold of a Christmas pre-dawn that he might salvage Yule ere the whole day was gone.
---
On another note, it looks like Bell has finally broken my old mts.net account (that, or they are they are actively blocking mail from Livejournal). In any event, I have updated my email address and should start getting notifications from the site again.
As his tired brain struggled through Byzantine twists of untraceable calls to illogical lists, the rotund little feline was forced to confess that his terse, cryptic code was a hot steaming mess. Though he tweaked and debugged, Plonq continued to curse for with each recompile things just got a bit worse. Then he glanced at the time, and his heart gave a twerk as it slowly sunk in he'd spend Christmas at work.
The cat snatched up his mug in a slosh of cold brew, and he stomped to the break room with vigour anew. He would take a short break to relax and rewind in the hopes that the rest would refresh his tired mind. As he pondered, and puzzled, and sipped his fresh cup, he reluctantly knew things were not looking up when amidst the morass of his growing despair came a clear, lucid vision of what to repair. But his elegant fix had a mighty big catch, as he'd have to rewrite the procedure from scratch.
But the vision was clear, and he knew what to do as he set to redo the whole thing through and through. The cat coded and tested, wrote documentation and guzzled back coffee to fuel inspiration. And as the first light of a new Christmas morn shone its first golden rays, his new project was born. It compiled without errors and ran without hitch. It was fast and efficient and free of all glitch.
"It's too good to be true," purred the cat with a yawn -- to awake in the break room some hours before dawn.
In a glum realization and tooth-baring scowl, the short dumpy feline let loose a long yowl. It had all been a dream; all the copy and paste. All the hacks and debugging had all been a waste. It was clear to the cat as he pondered and stewed that he'd fallen asleep while his fresh coffee brewed. He considered his options, and then grabbed his jacket and donned it amidst an invective-filled racket.
"It is way long past due," groused the cat with a curse, "so another week longer will not make it worse." He donned mittens and boots, and when suitably bundled, he signed off his workstation, turned tail and trundled out into the cold of a Christmas pre-dawn that he might salvage Yule ere the whole day was gone.
---
On another note, it looks like Bell has finally broken my old mts.net account (that, or they are they are actively blocking mail from Livejournal). In any event, I have updated my email address and should start getting notifications from the site again.
no subject
Date: 2021-12-16 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-16 12:35 am (UTC)I got a notification from DW about your reply here, so whatever backup they had from the AWS outage seems to have worked its way clear. I've swapped LJ over to my gmail address as well, so it should be good for now.