Monday, June 18
Zombie.
I had some moles cut off because they looked odd. Now I have healing wounds on my chest and my shoulder, and stitches in my back and my side. This means I can only lie on my other side to sleep. I have not had a lot of sleep since Thursday, and none of it good. Also, I have a cold. Usually if I have a cold bad enough to stay home from work (which I did on Friday) I stay in bed all day and, if it is really bad, take a long hot shower. Unfortunately my stitches prevent me from either lying comfortably or showering for long. Instead I played World of Warcraft which allowed me to sit still backwards on a chair with a desk to support my arms and watch pretty pictures for hours at a time. So I have spent the last three days: fuzzy headed, unsocial, stitched together, looking like death warmed up, wandering around the countryside hitting things until they die. I am zombie.
Rampage.
Because I care less about my work colleagues than the friends I missed on the weekend, I returned to work today even though I was still possessed by an undead funk. Fortunately for my colleagues the preternatural miasma focussed it's malefaction on icons of technology. The first victim was my computer monitor which surrendered its magic smoke to the ether with a loud pop. Next was the height mechanism on the spare desk which had been set up for a gnome and would only go lower, and then not back up again. Finally, the list of system updates required by the spare computer on the spare desk were uncommonly prone to fail if I stayed there, or time out if I went away. Fortunately this was solved by the help desk who ran the list from their end without incident. It seems supernatural zombie influences don't grasp networking.
I had some moles cut off because they looked odd. Now I have healing wounds on my chest and my shoulder, and stitches in my back and my side. This means I can only lie on my other side to sleep. I have not had a lot of sleep since Thursday, and none of it good. Also, I have a cold. Usually if I have a cold bad enough to stay home from work (which I did on Friday) I stay in bed all day and, if it is really bad, take a long hot shower. Unfortunately my stitches prevent me from either lying comfortably or showering for long. Instead I played World of Warcraft which allowed me to sit still backwards on a chair with a desk to support my arms and watch pretty pictures for hours at a time. So I have spent the last three days: fuzzy headed, unsocial, stitched together, looking like death warmed up, wandering around the countryside hitting things until they die. I am zombie.
Rampage.
Because I care less about my work colleagues than the friends I missed on the weekend, I returned to work today even though I was still possessed by an undead funk. Fortunately for my colleagues the preternatural miasma focussed it's malefaction on icons of technology. The first victim was my computer monitor which surrendered its magic smoke to the ether with a loud pop. Next was the height mechanism on the spare desk which had been set up for a gnome and would only go lower, and then not back up again. Finally, the list of system updates required by the spare computer on the spare desk were uncommonly prone to fail if I stayed there, or time out if I went away. Fortunately this was solved by the help desk who ran the list from their end without incident. It seems supernatural zombie influences don't grasp networking.
