Put Out At Two, These Days
I used to like working after midnight because it used to be nice and cold. But this bad weather is just putting me out cos it's now 2AM and I'm dripping with sweat. I've a few things to finish then I'm off to bed. I know that I may not fall asleep until maybe 4am so I'm trying to tire myself out. It didn't work last night though, I fell asleep just as light was coming up my windows and I heard the pandesal man honking his muffled horn.
I could be thinking too much these days -- finding my proper personal machine, how not to sound like a selfish prick when I do get one and refuse those who try to use it. Lots of scenarios running in my head which is always never good, in my case.
I had a brilliant idea of moving this computer out of my room a few days ago. Even if it would've put me in a very difficult situation because it'd far from my work area, I wanted so much to be this dismissive boor who didn't want people coming in her room that she'd wake up to the sounds of the table being moved around and the mouse irritatingly being clicked on. When what's really going on in her head are:
"What are you clicking on? Stop clicking. I'm going to spend a good half an hour to make sure everything's infection-free before I can actually start working (and I hate it). I'm dreading what I'll see on my AV's report when I get on there later. I'm paranoid that you're going somewhere and a nasty super-thing is worming its way in, completely overriding my arsenal of protections."
I thought that moving this out was a brilliant way of taking myself away from the situation (that's becoming more frequent, adding to my already mounting anxiety) until we discovered that the we couldn't work the wrench to unscrew the bolts out of the computer table's appendage. Ergo, we couldn't get it out of the door ourselves. So, so much for wanting to be a dismissive boor then. It felt much like the time when I wanted to walk away from a mad, angry conversation while waiting for the elevator years ago but I couldn't -- literally. It would've given me some peace of mind though, it was a good idea... even if it would've put me out severely, work-wise.
I could be thinking too much these days -- finding my proper personal machine, how not to sound like a selfish prick when I do get one and refuse those who try to use it. Lots of scenarios running in my head which is always never good, in my case.
I had a brilliant idea of moving this computer out of my room a few days ago. Even if it would've put me in a very difficult situation because it'd far from my work area, I wanted so much to be this dismissive boor who didn't want people coming in her room that she'd wake up to the sounds of the table being moved around and the mouse irritatingly being clicked on. When what's really going on in her head are:
"What are you clicking on? Stop clicking. I'm going to spend a good half an hour to make sure everything's infection-free before I can actually start working (and I hate it). I'm dreading what I'll see on my AV's report when I get on there later. I'm paranoid that you're going somewhere and a nasty super-thing is worming its way in, completely overriding my arsenal of protections."
I thought that moving this out was a brilliant way of taking myself away from the situation (that's becoming more frequent, adding to my already mounting anxiety) until we discovered that the we couldn't work the wrench to unscrew the bolts out of the computer table's appendage. Ergo, we couldn't get it out of the door ourselves. So, so much for wanting to be a dismissive boor then. It felt much like the time when I wanted to walk away from a mad, angry conversation while waiting for the elevator years ago but I couldn't -- literally. It would've given me some peace of mind though, it was a good idea... even if it would've put me out severely, work-wise.
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