Having long hair is sweet sometimes. Girls love playing with it, it's a statement, and if worn with an accompanying long beard, on the right person, it can scare little children. But after a while it gets tiring. Unless you sleep with a cap it's bound to get tangled, and it takes forever to wash and dry properly. It sheds, and has a preference for ending up in food.
I got sick of it, having let it grow for six years now. So I attacked it with scissors and a trimmer at half past four in the morning. I like it, but at some point in my life I know I'll let it grow out again. I always do.
I've had a couple of weeks of bad luck lately. The cold I caught after new year's eve won't quite give up, and there's the foiled attempt with the insurance company, which I griped about in my previous update. But the wheel is ever revolving, and finally turned to the good side yesterday.
In the morning after I cut my hair I called the insurance company to check the status of my claim. The customer service droid said they hadn't registered anything. Weird, but I guess the grumpy person I talked to last didn't bother. So, I went throught the ropes with this new, rather cheerful rep. This one asked me questions about the situation, confirmed the IMEI and date of purchace and all that. After he inquired what type of phone it was, he informed me that the claim was good and valid, that they had the phone in stock, and that I'd get the new phone and SIM within two to four business days. I was stunned.
Later in the day I managed to resolve errors from the previous day with Apache 2.2.0, PHP 5.1.2, MySQL 5.0.18 and Subversion 1.3.0, and was able to to compile them and make them work together in glorious harmony. My server is in the dawning of the age of Aquarius, and I can finally concentrate on coding again.
Even later I recieved a call from my uncle Donald, who was wondering if I could help him set up his satellite dish so he could get the football game. It's pretty hard doing that yourself when you're chained to an oxygen supply, your muscles have atrophied to the point of near uselessness, and any walking around makes you dizzy and exhausted. Add to that the effects of heavy morphine doses and other medications which give you auditory hallucinations, and doing anything at all gets a bit difficult.
A couple of hours later I had managed to lock on to Sirius at 5° east with no aid but the signal meter on the tuner itself. That satellite is a bitch to find, so I guess I was lucky.
The only thing that worries me a little now is how long the luck is going to last. But I've learned that positive things come to positive people, so I'm going to quit worrying and love the bomb.
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