Today's soundtrack: "The Unusual Classical Synthesizer"
In the latest manufactured round of alarm, managers are apparently retaliating for ''Quiet Quitting' by 'Quiet Firing', where they
- avoid one-to-one conversations
- refuse to provide feedback
- fail to share critical information needed to perform their jobs
- pass workers over for promotions
- subject employees to stingy raises, or no raises at all.
Sounds like everywhere I've worked for the last twenty years, to be honest. And I broke myself working for those guys.
Fuck 'em.
There's buzzin' and ringin' in my ear
And I wonder where do I go from here
The moments missed, the tickin' of time
I suppose this life is mine, all mine
I remember a time when my mind was clean and clear
- The Heads (Damage I've Done)
That's a lie, though. I don't remember a time when my mind was cleaner, or clearer, than it is now.
This doesn't, unfortunately, mean I'm productive in a useful-to-business direction. Just alert, and emotionally well regulated.
That's the best I can usually do.
Oh ghod who led him near the karaoke
Masked it up, backed up six feet
Double-gloved, took no chances
Went thru lockdown, hard to buy groceries
Just a man and his bills to survive
So many waves, stats rising too fast
ICU getting too gory
Self-isolate, 'till you get to that date
Your reward is a small plastic vial
It's the...
Vial of the Pfizer
I don't 'bout the cost
At this point, it's unwise to be a miser
At your first free appointment
Swipe my delt with a swab
And start shooting me up with a viiiiiaaaal....
of the Pfizer
*blink*
In Robot Odyssey (1984), you programmed submarines to perform tasks by soldering discrete logic chips to inputs and outputs. You could store submarines inside other submarines and call them later, remotely.
Those were nested sub routines. o.O
Come to think of it, the classic clamshell-mould all-in-one terminals had the same ergonomic issues as laptops. Keyboard too high, too far away, monitor too low.
A laptop with a nice chunky mechanical keyboard, unibody Moomin-plastic shell and a pantographing-hinge monitor for proper height...
Hmm...
What's on my mind. (Nothing deep. ;)
- Need to resume the never-ending process of sorting and making 'homes' for things in the office room. I stalled a lot once my PC was back up and capable of throwing polygons with abundance. *coughgames*
- falling down the rabbithole of ortholinear 60% keyboards. Cute little things! Not for continuous use, but as control pads for interfaces and devices like that Pellican'd Rasberry Devbox, they have a certain charm. Making keycaps for one-offs would be a good usecase for a small resin 3d printer, too. Could probably make do with the current filament printer for prototyping...
- making progress with the latest incarnations of Blender, but it's still slow going. Video tutorials help some, but I need to 'do' to learn, and while I can listen and do at the same time, I can't 'watch and listen' and 'do' at the same time.
All I'm saying is I know I've got a bag of a thousand green 5mm LEDs *somewhere* around here... it would just almost certainly be faster and cheaper by any metric you can name, given the clutter in which I live and the general spoon deficit I operate under, to order another such bag and wait for it to be delivered while I do something productive in the meanwhile.
Been wandering down retrocomputing rabbitholes lately.
State of the art has been progressing nicely, but so, I see, has the trailing edge. Hey @PhoenixTril, look! Sexy box. n.n
One minor advantage of being semissentialispensible, as I currently am, is when my eyes try to impale my brain I can go home and burrow under a eock without worrying about leaving people in the lurch. They made their coin off me today already. Converting back to a acreen-centric worklife is taking its toll on my head migraine-wise, though they're usually well managed - this one I can blame on 'Too Much Blender' last Saturday. Going to have to watch out for that. >.>
It's quarter to six, and I'm going to be late to work. That has lost all meaning, beyond my pay being calculated by an hourly wage, but if I stay late long enough to make up for missed time I'll not lose any income. I should, regardless, get up and go.
'Moment of Inertia' has a specific torque-related physics meaning, but for right now, it describes my unwillingness to start another week. To stay in this liminal interstice between minutes.
This unit has a bad motivator.
NSFW (CW:penises, surgery, humour, cutting)
(Urologist) "This technique isn't going to - well, it will leave a mark, and the type of cut we make to prevent post-surgical constriction will be noticable on inspection." (Draws diagram of bunny pronker, marks where he'll be cutting and suturing it in a month or two)
(Moment) "Oh, you're using a Z-cut."
(Urologist) "(...)" (blink) "Y-cut, actually, but the same idea, yes! Actually, sometimes it ends up like a T-cut..." (discusses fascia , ends up with) "- so it's a cosmetic technique, but we're using it for purely functional effect."
(Moment) "That's fine, Doctor. I wasn't planning on entering any Penis Beauty Competitions anyhow."
- - -
*siiiiigh*
I... hardly ever get to use the damn thing with anybody. Why does trading appearance for functionality... ache a little?
Work (-)
Gee. Take away my access to my short-term digital scratchpad, give me conflicting verbal instructions for two jobs where the four digit order codes only differ in one number, and be surprised the second time I get it wrong and tell you to fucking write a Change Order, boss. In as many words.
Nothing 'resting' about my bitch face today.
Oh, but I'm *MUCH* faster without soothing distractions like my phone to keep me wasting processor cycles on being 'nice'. I've already filked a song for the Korps, plotted a course of action for the doc I meet in a couple of hours, ordered a high-temperature mastic to seal the ventilation system that's poisoning us every time we cut Acetron on the laser, burnt most of my abbreviated day workload, and checked with the ex-biker at work about the usefulness of quicklime in rapidly disposing of bodies. (It tends to preserve 'em, don't bother.)
Mm. Break's nearly over. Have a good one, all.
Middle-aged scatterbrain working in 'the healthcare field'. Teaching a computer to sculpt in my spare time. Torontoish. Pronouns: he/hare