Ill

I am ill. I have a cold which has had it's twenty-four hours and is getting worse so it's not a twenty-four hour thing. Boo hoo, poor me. I didn't go to Jonathan's game today but I have to go to work tomorrow, at least in the morning. I have to set up a review meeting for my first Test Request, which I know is full of gaps. The review is supposed to get everyone involved to check the document before it is sent off to the Testing Services Centre to be executed. As I know the thing is significantly incomplete I am relying on this meeting to fix it. So I have to go to work in the morning. Also, we are relocating so I have to pack up my stuff, including my computer. I think I shall complete the draft Test Request, invite everyone to the meeting, put everything in a box and go home to wallow in headaches and tissues.

Linda also has to go to work on Monday. She is working in the basement of Parliament House (like Mulder). She will get paid twenty dollars per fortnight more than the dole to do a programming job for which she should be paid thirty dollars an hour. Lucky thing.

Yesterday I saw Adaptation with Simon. It is extremely clever, perhaps a bit too clever because the cleverness unavoidably restricts the story. However it is such a clever story a little restriction is not a significant obstacle and just maybe it saves the whole production in the end (because the audience's brains don't explode with the cleverness of the whole thing).  ¶ 21:28