Thursday, May 15, 2008

For the second time this week, the remediation team has pushed out a surprise change to the servers my team owns. In this case, the users have been restricted from accessing the system drive.
As you may expect, this makes all of these computers completely useless and inaccessible to the people who normally visit them every freaking day.
To compound the issue, the remediation team moved the servers out of the restricted Organizational Unit without correcting the error first, which simply leaves all six hundred of them in a locked-down state with no easy way to roll back.
We have been tasked with logging into each server with a service account and manually fixing the permissions. Like I said earlier, this is the second time this week an unannounced change has made my team and our product look like total crap.
In our "Disaster Mitigation" meeting, I announced that I saw no long-term solution which did not involve physical violence, my mental image closely matching the "board with a nail in it" image for this post.
The response from my coworkers was one of agreement coupled with,"You are going to fit in well here."
Maybe they are right, but I got a survey in my Inbox this morning from Human Resources asking about how I was adjusting to the company. They asked if I felt I was a good fit for my role, my team and my manager and all that was pretty straightforward. But they also asked how I was adjusting to Columbia and I honestly answered negatively since I miss my family and my friends and I miss not living in a horrible hotel.
We have decided to make an offer on a house here and juggle two mortgages until one of my readers steps up and purchases the house in Houston. From you guys, I'm accepting all offers. The rest of the stupid world can pay our asking price or sleep in the street.
Any offers made by the end of the day based on this post can be in the form of old-world barter. We have a veterinarian ready to inspect livestock trade offers and a panel of taste-testers ready to accept amphorae of oil or casks of wine.
Of course, bladed weapons for defending our new compound would be readily accepted, as would the formula for Greek Fire, since it would give us a distinct advantage on move-in.
Beads and shells would also be considered, provided they are gaudy (in the case of beads) since the natives dig that or "endangered" or at the very least "threatened" (in the case of shells) and in sufficient quantities to set up our new home in the style to which we have become accustomed.
I'm sure there is a ready-made contract for this type of exchange somewhere on the internet, but I have to go and fix some broken computer crap now so I don't have time to find it.

8 comments:

Jane said...

Ted and I will trade you the house for 25 lbs of apples, a conch shell, and an Animal Collective CD.

Garrick said...

Crap!

I'm allergic to apples!

Are you trying to kill me?!?

Let's talk more about the CD, though.

Jane said...

Okay, how about one pound of pesto?

Garrick said...

Pesto, eh?

Imported basil?

Jane said...

It's organic. Ted found it in the dumpster at Trader Joes. Unopened.

E.to.the.H said...

I will give one adorable kitten who has a "blast off" sound every time she jumps/runs. Really, truly adorable.

I'd also be willing to give up 2 Animal Collective CDs: Strawberry Jam and Feels.

Jane said...

I don't know who you are, but I'll trade you "Sung Tongs" for "Strawberry Jam."

Garrick said...

"Sung Tongs" is filled with win.

But hey! This is about selling my house, not exchanging music! The next thing you know we'll all be pissing off the RIAA. I'm not getting Tazed again. Not for that.

Take it to Craig's List!

E, tell me more about this kitten.

I'm so lonely.