Stifled
October 23rd, 2009My feet slosh as I step through the mystery puddle on my way to the coffee maker. The pleasantly warm cup is the only sip of solace in this frigid and futile shop. I’m stuck here alone, impotent to perform my function, waiting on the slow, snail pace of another hardware test. The Mac works fine from a bootable CD, but will not cooperate when I try to start it otherwise. Red lines and freezing, but the RAM is fine. The video RAM is fine. The caches are all fine. The drive is fine. The file system is fine. Everything that should be causing this fucking problem is fine, but it’s not fine.
I have a laptop stripped to its bare LCD while I ponder whether its the backlight or the inverter shitting on me. The Internet has found one source for a part, and it looks shady to say the least. Nothing today is coming easily, especially being awake. I am smothering my desire to tell both customers and their shitty machines to fuck off with frequent smokey fires. The dull hum of buzzing servers and shop computers is building an audible tumor in the back of my eyes, and all I have is this cooling cup of coffee.
I have hunger enough to eat a wolf, and I can’t see good in the world. If you find some, bring it to me. I need a little company.
