After taking the movies back to the store, I went to give Tobias a much needed wash. He was overdue already, and after those bumpy, dusty roads yesterday, he was looking pretty weathered. Besides that, I've found it has become quite a soothing ritual for me. I needed that.

About the apprehension discussed in the previous rambling. I'm not sure how much of it is due to the trip itself, and how much is because of the circumstances under which it is being conducted. Obviously, given that I haven't flown for nearly a decade and a half makes just getting on a plane a big deal in and of itself. Although I wouldn't say I have a fear of flying. I just haven't done it in a long, long time. Flying alone, into an unknown territory, where nothing is familiar. I suppose apprehension is reasonable.

On top of that, there's this feeling that everything at work is flying helter-skelter out of control, no time for thought, sensible planning, or doing things right. Code that's already a mess just gets worse as more quick fixes get kludged on to make up for the lack of forethought, due to things being rushed in the first place. I mean really, why not save long term expense and headaches by setting a reasonable schedule, doing things right in the first place, and avoid having to recode the same mess three times over in the long run?

(Says he whose web page has been recoded.... how many times now? But that was for fun, you see. ;)

Anyway, the voice in my head -- call it a hunch -- says that at the rate things are going, the shit will hit the fan, sooner or later. The more shit I see, the sooner I suspect it will hit. If and when it does, I do NOT want to be 1300 miles from home, stranded in an office on the brink of hell, no transportation, no knowledge of the surrounding area, and nothing familiar that I can call mine.

So what can I do? Hope and pray that the week will come and go. Hope and pray that I will just go to Atlanta, put in my time, kludge another ugly kludge, no unfortunate disasters will happen while I'm there, and three days later, I can take the plane home, drive back to the house, plop on the bed, sleep a long sleep, and experience home again. Oh, that's right. Next weekend could very well be a "work weekend". No recoup time after the trip. Fuck that.

Why am I even writing here? This is not calming me down. This is not helping me.

[Bitscape checks his email, and finds a new message. Reads it.]

So yeah. Here's hoping the shit doesn't hit the fan while I'm out in lala land. Sorry if these recent ramblings have had a strong streak of the depressed, pissed off tone to them. One way or another, this whole twilight zone thing will be over before too much longer. One way or another. Or another.

I think I'll try to induce sleep in the near future.