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chaoticset (2105)

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JAPH. (That's right -- I'm not Really Inexperienced any more.)

I'm not just here, I'm here [], and here [] too, I ramble randomly in my philosophical blog [] and my other blog []. Soon I'll come in a convenient six-pack.

Journal of chaoticset (2105)

Monday November 12, 2001
01:35 AM

Collapsed Frustration

[ #1232 ]
In quantum physics, the word 'collapse' is used to refer to the point when a set of superpositions gets measured (okay, that's not quite right, but it'll explain what I'm getting at.)

I just figured out what was frustrating me; I just found the source of the whole page of errors I got every time I ran the script; the problem, of course, was me.

Now, I am truly frustrated, but I have no way to release it. I can't stop working on this; I won't get any time with it tomorrow because the SO will be pounding away at the keyboard. The SO will say, "I'm sick of hearing about how you programming is more important than what *I* do."

As encouraging as I am of the SO's creative endeavors (redesigning VHS tape cassette covers which the SO wants to sell eventually, designing the various things for the side business the SO is starting soon), that grinds me the wrong way.

Functionally, however, the time to work is now.

I note all this in my journal so that, tomorrow, around 10 p.m., when I stagger back to the computer, I know *what* I was trying to do when my brain shut down in an hour or so.

The error I found was stupidly simple: I'd left an ending slash off my m// statement. God Dammit. Anyway, fixed and moving on; working the kinks out of the 'display matching' should take me a couple days, and then putting the carthandling back together *right* should be a few more on top of that.

My grandmother went to the hospital yesterday, and I found out what happened today; she turned out to have pneumonia, but nobody noticed until she couldn't breathe very well. (I have half a mind to go to the nursing home my father and his siblings put her in and beat a few of those people severely.)

But she's breathing. She's breathing, and I'm well.

I can't remember how old she is; my father is...63? I believe he's 63. Possibly 62. This puts her at least at 75, maybe 85 or so. She's the one with Alzheimer's (actually, she's my only living grandparent that I'm actually related to) so I suspect she doesn't suffer too much that she knows about.

Small consolation.

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