I am so tired it hurts.
A lot.
Muchly, even.
But I'm happy all at the same time, finally crawling back into my home, head spinning from fatigue and putting groceries away, after a chance encounter with my downstairs neighbour, having trouble parking his car. Some distinguished looking elderly gentleman with a fancy but impractical car, he looked so forlorn stuck out in the street that I drove around the corner, parked, and climbed out of my car with my trusty shovel and offered the frightened-of-strangers-with-pink-hair-man a hand.
His name is David, he lives in appartment 25, and is suddenly so much happier to be living in this neighbourhood.
And my corporate evaluation was baffling, everything that I declared as a weakness was shrugged off with a "you'll have to clarify your objectives yourself" so I'm still working free-as-abird without a boss, but I'm asking Daniel for help with management because I don't have the strength to be manager and coder and technological expert all at the same time. I'm having enough trouble with the third as it is.
My major weakness? I don't document enough. My packaged demos should be prettier.
Aroo?
And my strongest point? Apparently Philippe was rather impressed and excited by my NETWORKING skills. Oh no, not TCP/IP, but the fact that I manage to communicate and coordinate with people in five time zones ahead of me.
"Keep up the good work there"
Essentially: keep on just keepin' on and blundering along. Helpful evaluation, lemme tell you.
And Patrick Georges is back, I'm still unclear on what he actually does for the company other than spar with me in the hallways but he helped me think out some more of my design for my SSH project.
yes, all I have is work on my mind.
And I'm tired. And I'm loving it.
And sometimes I wonder who I'd tell if I weren't here whispering it to you, whilst I'm out prancing during the glimly daylit hours, playing sexual advocate and hypergirl.
Greetings dear diary, thank you for wiping my tears away when I have them.