Charlie is on the move again. Vietcong activity has been at an all time low on the third floor of Discovery building 3 at 155 West Street.
It's quiet. Too quiet.
The evenings are taxing my endurace and my sanity. 3pm to 12am of shortstaffed project madness. The days are taxing my lungs. No work yet, development system on order and due to arrive and time before Christmas (2011) and a "server" neglected by a man who was apparently a raving queen and a bitch who was overworked and quarantined into resigning.
I've begun fantasizing the fake trees are part of a jungle back in Nam, and seeing fumes of dissipating napalm wafting from the flourescent lights post scorth bombing. And empty coffee cups, expended munitions. Behind every plastic tree - a little yellow person with a shitty russian made rifle waiting to pounce, and upon ever astroturf patch of fake grass is a memorial to developers that didn't survive the code neopolitana spaghetti that is Discovery Invest systems. Some interior decorator was obviously hired on behalf of Discovery to make the place look "Green" and "Healthy," and to do everything possible to disguise the obscene amounts of money the insurance industry in general milks off of people fear of losing things that don't really matter.
And the sauce on their spaghetti code is lumpy with bad XML, and there are no fucking meatballs.
But I've started mixing metaphors. My English assessment invigilator would spank me. Hopefully. She had kinky librarian all over her. Unfortunately I was too young to get any of me all over her. Time to smoke again.
Disclaimer: The views in the blog and posts are my own, and do not necessarily represent and opinions shared by Discovery Health or Entelect Software, or any affiliated entitys. Only I am awesome enough to come up with this stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment