Not that it’s unexpected; this box has been running almost continuously since I built it over three years ago. The power output is fine, it’s just that the fan is getting noisy. I did want to put a heavier unit in here, anyway…
I suppose it’s time to open the case and take the canned air to this thing. While I’m at it, I suppose I need to change out a case fan…
I just wiped off the counter after finishing this phase of the sink installation. It’s a pretty bald hack, as the countertop doesn’t allow all the sink clips to fit correctly, but the countertop is up for replacement, anyway (as soon as I can afford it).
All that remains is to listen for any pounding on the door and threats of bullets coming through the floor, in the event there’s a leak I haven’t detected (did I mention how much I love this neighborhood?)…
Well, kiddies, I can’t stop the kitchen faucet’s dripping by playing with the valves any more, so it’s time to take action. There are, in the living room, a new faucet assembly and even a new sink, just waiting to have a new home. I was hoping I could put replacement off until I could scrape together enough for a new base cabinet and counter top, but I won’t have the $400 any time soon…
I’m so happy the landlord (yes, I rent) appreciates this sort of thing; my little improvements around here help keep the rent affordable…
More on this as I progress.
It was in the wastebasket. I have absolutely no idea how it got there. I had looked in all the logical places, then said to myself “There’s no way it will be here, but what the hell…”.
And there it was.
It’s kind of funny, really, when you catch all manner of hell for having knocked a tube of denture adhesive out of the bathroom cabinet, and it turns up in another room in a wastebasket. Did one of the cats drop it there? Possible, but unlikely. Did I throw it away? I think not! I am, however, a convenient target. If something is not exactly as it is expected to be, blame the useless weirdo. Throw fits, make accusations of calling you a liar, whatever it takes to gain some amusement.
So, the bathroom items I use regularly are in a container in another room. If I never go into the cabinet, I will not have the opportunity to knock anything out of it. My clothes already hang here in Data Central, after the ninety-fifth rant about a packed and disheveled closet. It is a bit easier to hang the laundry now, although the chaotic look still remains (don’t look at me for the hangers sprung all over the place, I haven’t taken a thing out of that closet since January).
I wonder what’s next. I already take crap for washing the sheets too often, but when you do your laundry in a pickle jar, it behooves you to stay on top of the larger items (yes, there is a perfectly serviceable washer and two perfectly serviceable driers in the front building, but I have no desire to be shot for standing too close to some asshole’s laundry basket).
Hell, why don’t I learn, already? I’m her target. It’s my job. All I really need is a blouse with a bull’s eye…
I hammered out another page of the web site today. This one centers on the kitties, who can now claim their fifteen minutes of fame (actually, since the site sits on a 56K dialup line, it will probably take fifteen minutes to load).
The reaction so far:
Winston bounced.
Miranda demanded tuna.
Ariel heaved a kitty sigh and waddled off.
And, from kitty heaven, Merlin blinked. (I miss you horribly, dear friend)
Moonpuppy received notice, today, that she was accepted to university. I am indeed thrilled for her, but I cannot help but wonder how differently things could have gone for me in that regard.
What if my depression had not reared its ugly head and derailed me in my quest for a PhD? What could I have done differently to interrupt the course of the illness and get myself back on track?
As background, I had gone back to school at the University of Pittsburgh in 1992. I was in group quarters at the time, having been warehoused three years before on account of the depression. I was getting some pressure from the handlers to get out of the apartment and do something “useful”, so I got to thinking: I had been wanting to go back to school, so why not do it now? My thoughts were of either high-energy particle physics or neuroscience, and decided upon the latter because, in that field, there were more questions with attainable answers. I did the prep work, was accepted to Pitt, and off to school I went.
The first three years were all my dreams fulfilled. This was where I belonged. The brain was in overdrive. Having got most of the general requirements out of the way my first time around (Marietta College, 1974-1977), I could concentrate on the specialized courses, and enrolled in anything that looked even mildly interesting. Best of all, I had a 3.5 GPA to show for it. You could see the hungry look in the eyes of Drs. Striker and Pagano (chairman and vice-chairman of the department, respectively).
Then, it happened.
I’m not sure of the cause. I do wonder if it had something to do with my refinishing a set of kitchen cabinets; the fumes gave me more than one headache. A few months later, my world began to collapse. By mid-senior year, I spent more time in tears than in doing anything useful. As it was, I finished up my BS in April 1996, with a 2.95 GPA, and found myself in the psych ward again on 5 July. You could see the dissapointment on the faces of Drs. Striker and Pagano…
Now, I keep a low profile, doing what I can, eveluating myself on a daily basis, wondering if I can strike out again and make it, this time (surely, research into the physiology of affective disorders is out, but there are other things to do). I just don’t want to collapse again. I’m not sure I could take it.
I can’t help but wonder, though…
Well, I actually did some coding today. It’s been a while, too long. The program is nothing special, just a decompiler for one of the file types The Sims uses; it surely ranks as code-grinding. It felt good, though. I once made something of a living this way, now I’m stuck on SSDI…
It’s not that I haven’t tried getting back out there. I guess I’m just too weird for the world (or is it that I’m just too capable? No, no bitterness here).
Oh, well… It’s after 7 am, time for bed. Then, during the next waking period, do the Suzy Homemaker thing (I’m not complaining, really and truly), then I really really need to get to that manual for my Linux distribution.
I’m dropping words again. I suppose I have to look into this…
I’ve been doing a bit of work on my web site, and when I had to switch to my reading glasses to see what I was doing, I knew that I’m getting old. It’s only too bad that the years haven’t been as good I had hoped they would be…
