Pardon me as I quote liberally from Altered Carbon.
The personal, as everyone's so fucking fond of saying, is political. So if some idiot politician, some power player tries to execute policies that harm you or those you care about, take it personally. Get angry. The Machinery of Justice will not serve you here -- it is slow and cold, and it is theirs, hardware and soft-. Only the little people suffer at the hands of Justice; the creatures of power slide out from under with a wink and a grin. If you want justice, you will have to claw it from them. Make it personal. Do as much damage as you can. Get your message across. That way you stand a far better chance of being taken seriously next time. Of being considered dangerous. And make no mistake about this: being taken seriously, being considered dangerous, marks the difference -- the only difference in their eyes -- between players and little people. Players they will make deals with. Little people, they liquidate. And time and again they cream your liquidation, your displacement, your torture and brutal execution with the ultimate insult that it's just business, it's politics, it's the way of the world, it's a tough life, and that it's nothing personal. Well, fuck them. Make it personal.
So it's a little over dramatic. We're talking about jobs, not revolutions. But, NASA is a no-go. I was a fuckup, showed up for a job interview 40 minutes late. So maybe we're feeling a little hostile and angry today.
I've also got a real case of insomnia. Ambien and I, it seems, do not agree, and I have managed to injure the holy hell out of myself stumbling and bumping into things -- and I never remember in the morning. That's a drug that scares me. And I fucking hate it when I wake up having dislocated my shoulder and covered in bruises. Ambien, no more. I may try Sonata, or maybe I can just wait out the insomnia and hope my doc will give me Provigil. Or something. Being up all night, though, I got to talk to my pal David Fetter who it turns out I sort of quasi-know from Burning Man. Small fucking planet. He's wayyyyy out on the political left, and I'm a fascist right-winger gun nut. So it was a spirited conversation with lots of cursing. Good fun when you can't sleep.
Other tasks accomplished while not sleeping, worked with Net::Amazon some. That's pretty cool. I wish they made it possible to get at things like my reviews. Then I'd be a real cool dude and I'd make an rss and everything and I'd write my advogato-to-blogger scraper and toss them reviews right in there too. But by the time I finally get all that motivation in place, and started writing code, somebody's going to give me a job. Or tell me to move. Or something.
Sandy quits her job tomorrow, and starts a new one next week. It will be pleasant having her for four days. And the new job rocks. Maybe then Fujitsu will call and tell me I need to move to Hawaii and her new job will be moot.
RIP, Hunter S. Thompson. No shame in suicide. I hope he got what he wanted.