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Yeah, I know. The title sucks. Get over it. How many times do I have to tell you that I hate titling these damned updates?
This is a picture of a Washington State Ferry underway. I shot this on the 7:00pm sailing of the westbound Mukilteo-to-Clinton run. We were on a detour from our normal commute route due to a fiery fatality accident that closed all lanes of northbound I-5 during our normal nightly soul-crushing ass pain. The accident occurred around quarter after three in the afternoon just north of Marysville. A southbound driver of an SUV apparently broke through the controversial cable barriers in the median and entered oncoming northbound traffic, colliding with an empty motorcoach bus. The SUV burst into flames, killing the driver and burning the vehicle to a charred metal shell that only slightly resembled an SUV. The driver of the bus was airlifted to Harborview Medical Center in serious condition. Since someone died in the accident, the Washington State Patrol and WSDOT conducted a lengthy investigation, and didn’t have all northbound lanes of the Interstate opened again until roughly eight in the evening.
Of course, all this death and destruction makes the commute about as painful as how your perineum repeatedly snapped with a large rubber band might feel… which is why we opted to for the ferry route. Am I an insensitive dick for thinking someone else’s tragedy is fucking up my evening? I think not. That just makes me an ugly American. God bless the USA.
I’m usually home by 7:30pm on a normal day. Tonight, I was home by 8:15pm. The ferry added forty five minutes to our typical time, but people who didn’t take the ferry didn’t get home until after 9:00pm. Is a boat ride that saves almost an hour of driving time worth fifteen dollars? I say yes it is. When you only have two and a half hours of free time before going to bed, those 150 minutes are very valuable. Fifteen dollars was a blue light fucking special!
The weather lately has been quite mild. We’ve had several days where the high temperatures have been in the mid-fifties. It feels like we’re on the back side of winter, and it’s warming up to spring. Not a day too soon, either. I like winter and all, but freezing my ass off in the cold and suffering with the typical colds and flu bug is no fun. I welcome warmer weather, and always look forward to spring. The trees start to leaf up again, flowers start to bloom, birds are chirping… who am I kidding? I’ll be in a climate controlled skyscraper all day, living off the recycled air conditioned stench of swamp foot and crotch rot, soaking up the greenish glow of fluorescent lighting. Welcome to corporate America, motherfucker. Pass the bourbon.
Things are getting busier at work. We just rolled out new virtual private server plans, and so far, I feel like a retarded orangutan fucking a chihuahua. The salespeople are selling this shit, and I’m not fully trained in it. It’s enough to shrink my balloon knot so tight, only dogs could hear me fart. I guess I’ll learn it when I need to. Trial and error, baby! The only way to learn. Not that I need much training — there’s not much support that goes into VPS. The customer’s supposed to know what the fuck they’re doing.
On top of the new VPS service, we’re also becoming a domain name registry. Not a reseller for some other registrar, but we’re becoming a registrar ourselves, selling domain names like Go Daddy. This is yet one more thing that the company is throwing at my department, and I haven’t a clue how it works yet. I was told we start doing the registrar dance sometime next week. Fucking excellent.
On top of all that (do you see a pattern here?), I still have my normal “hey-change-this” and “oh-setup-that” hosting duties. Shit, man, I still have the migration of sites from an old retired server to a new server left to finish. Fuck! I’m going to be busier than a set of jumper cables at an Indian wedding. Not Slurpee Indians, but casino Indians. Was that too mean? Okay, here’s a nicer simile: busier than a one-legged man playing Dance Dance Revolution (yes, it's possible). I wonder if I can talk the company into a comical Super Bowl ad with half-naked women? Maybe? What? Stop laughing! A man can dream, can’t he?
Okay, that’s enough of that. I’ll Wikify this bitch tomorrow at lunch and publish from there.
