So metalrabbit had her review on friday, it seems she's down in cork for another while. On hearing this I reacted in my usual mature and reasoned fashion - which is to say I erupted into a tirade of swearing and plans to visit cork for the sole purpose of shooting her boss in the guts and then spent the weekend in a an exremely mature and reasoned sulk, I'm fucking unreal sometimes. Of course, that was the parts of the weekend that I was awake, it turns out that being in an incredibly bad mood all week is very exhausting, guessing from the amount of time I spent asleep on the sofa I'd been running on empty since tuesday.
I'm out in the data centre this week again I think, so I should be nice and cranky all week, probably tired and most likely quite surly. That said, part of last week's reconciliation involved me not having to travel during rush hour traffic so much, because that place is a nightmare for traffic jams thanks to the stupid construction at the stupid "Red Cow" roundabout and the stupid Luas light rail system. Naturally this concession will last about as long as it takes for them to realise they don't really care all that much.
And I swear, the next one of those primitive screwheads in development so much as *touches* the servers will feel the wrath of my boomstick.
I think at this stage, with my main problems at least partly resolved I might hang around until december, if only out of a sense of morbid curiosity about what pay increase they'll offer it (or the urge to torment myself, I'm not certain). See, as I mentioned before, many many times I'm sure, I'm pretty badly underpaid, which makes me part of a very large club I know, but as was pointed out to me on friday I've only been considering this from the perspective of a basic functionality tester, NOT a specialised stress tester as I now am, familiar as I am with the whole stress and tuning testing experience, with that little factor in mind, they'd nearly need to double my pay... maybe 80% more, to bring it into line with anything like market standards. I also seem to recall being very drunk at a party and revealing my actual annual gross pay and being told it was pretty shit, which is a good confirmation because what you see on salary survey sites can often bear as much relation to reality as a press statement from the white house - for example, I'm sure the frenchman alone skews the "average" developer's salary considerably by being insanely overpaid. By that token, maybe I've been taking the wrong approach to work, maybe if I was ignorant, rude to my bosses, unwilling to be even remotely helpful and actively hindered other departments then I might get a huge increase and a five year contract with bonuses and benefits.
Note to self: Append letter of resignation to say I'm leaving because I was offered more money - that's more likely to generate more cash than "Fuck you fuckers and the fucking horse you fucked in on"
See, there I am again, obsessing about this asshole, I have to stop this, if I'm going to have a nemesis then it's not going to be him, I'd much rather my nemesis be someone cool, like Herr Killinstein or Dr Schnitzel.
Anyway, I've been reading exalted stuff for the last week or so, just skimming it since I finished reading the trilogy of novels - the dead ones or something. It's not half bad, I wasn't mad about it when I heard about it first but it has a certain charm I can't put my finger on but appeals nonetheless.
I've been listening, almost exclusively to irish trad punk since Iresprite introduced me to the dropkick murphys who I mentioned before. The Flogging Mollys are okay, more trad than punk, Whiskey and the Devil are likewise alright, but neither are a patch on DM.
I've been thinking of a few different things to do lately, one is to work up some kind of RPG campaign based loosely on american gods/X files/unknown armies to get away from D&D after we finish the current campaign (whenever that is). Also I can't help but feel that I have a book in me somewhere, I horrible, unreadable piece of shit with plot holes to rival the biography of any footballer, but a book nonetheless. The problem is not time or ability as much as it is having an attention span that doesn't even compare favourably with that of a ferret.
Man I have no life.
Finally, a word for the day: shitappotamus.