it's *great* being wrong. shoot me now.

in good spirits, but with one serious friggin' hangover, i got up and dressed, and left, on time. i waited for the bus for about half an hour before someone who recognized me from the base stopped on his way past and gave me a ride. good thing only half the bus lines were operating today due to the elections, and that there was no notice of which ones they were.

i was completely, utterly, totally wrong this morning. we'd passed all the tests, everything was working fine. now, i don't know what tests those fuckers were doing... or if they were doing them on the right systems... but i didn't get back to sleep until the early afternoon. error after error got called in, drove me fucking mental and i was alone - the kid didn't come in until everything was over with.

that - fucking - hurt.

i took about 10 minutes to go off and vote - i eventually did vote for the pot party. i don't know if i was clear when i said that they have my interests at heart - i wasn't referring to the dope. quite frankly, i don't give two shits whether dope is legal or not. in any event i think people enjoy it more because it's not acceptable. and that in itself is a good form of control (not that it always works).

i had humus with the mongoose. lots of politically charged screaming going on - i came extremely close to getting involved before the mongoose snapped me out of it and reminded me that it's a bunch of aging idiots with too much time on their hands.

i slept a couple of hours in the afternoon. then my demons came out to play.

*a-hem*
I AM NOT A FUCKING DBA. I DON'T WANT TO BE A FUCKING DBA. I DIDN'T STUDY PROGRAMMING TO BECOME A DBA. I DON'T DREAM OF BEING A DBA FOR THE REST OF MY FUCKING LIFE.

I HATE ORACLE

so when a problem requiring one rears its ugly little head, in a system that i loathe with all my heart and both my testicles, and after hours of frustration i take it to the QUALIFIED DBA, who actually LIKES this shit, and he tells me he has no idea, and that i should figure it out myself, then i'm not having a good afternoon.

and every time the damn thing locks up, there's nothing to be done for a period of approximately half an hour while the session is killed. losing one's mind in half-hour increments is a torture device that i find it hard to believe was created by accident.

i've come to a conscious and horrible decision. in the morning, our client section is going to get an email telling them that every release will have to be done by hand until further notice. that's going to make their lives unpleasant, and it's going to piss off the soldiers who just want to be civilians already. and i plan on wasting lots of time looking as if i'm trying to solve the problem.

i never wanted to be doing this shit - and i've done too much of it during the last year and a half. i was lied to when i accepted the job, and i've been fucked over plenty in trying to get out of it. i'm now going for "is too incompetent to continue in his current role".

hell, spot arrived to clear his desk and i managed to enlist him in our quest for freedom from db slavery. oh well. can't say we didn't try. and i did get to watch a freecell master in action. we went by the guard huts, spot and the dude got silly and the kid and i just watched and shook our heads.

we bussed through to zinc, and had a really good meal. then we moved to the lincoln, for an hour and a half of great pool. a couple of beers, some solid runs, and that amazing waitress smiling a lot in my direction (dammit! i just CAN'T hit on her!), and i felt much better. i bussed to work, arriving around 11.30pm, and tried to get some sleep.

nothing doing. not a particularly busy night, but the calls've been spread out
:( we're finishing at 6am... that sucks. i guess it's going to be a horrid day.