Thursday = Free doughnut day at my new job. What is this freak show?
I submitted my list of technical grievances this afternoon and was given the go-ahead to start actually fixing stuff. I also suggested that we double the size of our server farm and that is getting added to the budget for first quarter next year.

At this rate, any day now I'll discover the whole building is powered by dead babies or I'll have to rough up old people as one of my non-technical roles or maybe they all worship Satan. Not that any of that is necessarily a deal-breaker . . .

Excuse me? Isn't another shoe supposed to drop right about now?

Hey! I found out the guy who sits behind me has been playing Shadowrun for the past few years. Old school. Pencil and paper.
Before that he played Dungeons and Dragons. He recommended I take my EverQuest character to Warslik's Woods for good loot and experience points.

My boss talks just like Antonio Banderas.

Tomorrow I plan to find the baby furnace.

Wednesday started as any good Wednesday should -- with a Citrix printer issue.
I've worked with Citrix (an application designed to share applications across a network) for quite a while. Printing through Citrix is either working right out of the box or broken in horrible undocumented never-before-seen ways. There is little middle ground with Citrix.
Of course, whatever is not printing is always the most important document in the history of the company. Or of any company. Or of printing.
Troubleshooting the issues takes time. Often the technician (today played by me) will have to communicate with an end user to obtain vital data about the printer and the error.
During this process, a manager generally leans over the cube. I assume they are hoping to add enthusiasm and contribute to a solution.
If there is a lot of tension, I like to make some outlandish solution in the hopes of getting a laugh.
Wednesday it was: "It is my second day and I'm already sick of printer issues. How about we just implement a paperless office?"
I thought there silence that followed that statement was a "stunned" variety silence. By the time I noticed the wheels turning it was too late.
"I love that idea!" the manager jumped on it."We can help the environment and save the company money for every 500 page report that gets generated in electronic format!"
He dashed off to create a project plan before I could tell him that printing was working normally again.
Then, disaster struck . . .
We got hit by a nasty network worm all across the workstations and server farm. The bad news? It should have been patched August 9th. The really bad news? It should have been patched August 9th, 2005.
The automated patching mechanism was apparently me logging into every server and running the update from the Microsoft website. That took most of the rest of the day.
Our office manager ordered Jason's Deli for the I.T. group. I thought it was due to everyone working through lunch. It turns out that just happens every Wednesday.
Free lunch Wednesday? Dare I hope for pants-free Friday?
The office manager is . . . nice. She told me during my day one tour that she is 60. If she is 60, I'm 20. She has retina-searing red hair and plastic surgery scars near her ears. But she loves to talk.
Today she strolled over to the server team cube farm and started talking about her limo. Apparently, she owns a Cadillac limousine that was once owned by W.C. Fields. He and Errol Flynn carved their names into the wood over the bar. She said she makes a few thousand dollars some months leasing it out for photos.
Then her eyes glazed over and she said, "Can you just imagine W.C.Fields and Errol Flynn riding around in that car? You know they really knew how to party. Of course, they were drunks and constantly used cocaine. You could buy it in drugstores back then. It was totally legal. Just walk up to the counter and buy cocaine. Oh, if that car could talk!"
Jason's Deli is good, though.

Out on the west end of the Houston skyline, just inside the loop, sits the global headquarters of (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement).
I think the building was designed by committee. They decided that it should have walls and windows and not fall down but couldn't agree on much else.
In a cubicle on the 28th floor just across from the help desk, within the comforting hum of the server room, I spent my day today.
Human Resources had the day off, so no one could correct my name. On everything from payroll to login to contact information and cube label, I am (my first name) (my middle name).
It was my radio name from back before I did the whole computer thing, so I didn't argue. It is my email address. I can't fight that.
I was issued a laptop that works and a BlackBerry that doesn't.
I've been told I can have my home internet connection paid for and whatever office supplies I want can be ordered.
Someone handed me the nicest journal I've ever held and just walked off.
The coffee in the break room is free and they have Splenda and half and half in those little containers made from white plastic.
This company is over sixty years old and this year is the first one with a real I.T. department. I'm pretty sure they think if they aren't nice we will run away.
This is the least funny post ever. I'm seriously freaked out.

G.T.

Go, team employment!

Tuesday is my first day at the new job. To celebrate, my dad sent a Starbucks coffee card. On behalf of my new employer: Thank you Dad for the liquid productivity.
I think an adequate coffee supply would decrease workplace violence.
Ok. I've got the laptop patched and loaded with useful stuff and my handy USB drive loaded with applications, MP3s and electronic comic books.
I've got my work clothes all laid out in an easy to access pile.
I've loaded an extra optical mouse in my laptop bag because there is a possibility I'll be issued a used mouse. I can't use a used mouse. That's like buying second hand drawers.
I may not be able to post until after work. I'll keep notes if I am able and fully detail all the trauma as soon as possible.
Of course, I've already signed a non-disclosure agreement. I can't post the name of the company here either way because Google could lead co-workers right back here. I can tell you right now that would be bad.
Anyway, just know that if my beliefs line up with those of my new employer then I would have to say that every time someone pays less than $2.00 a gallon for gas, God kills a kitten.

Hey, everybody!
I spent most of today working on a network security project. It was (and continues to be) awesome.
I'll be home again sometime tomorrow. I plan to enjoy a much deserved day off, then I'm back to work on Tuesday in a semi-gainful employment situation.
I chose my next assignment with interesting blog posts in mind. This new position promises to test the limits of inefficiency and reach new heights of corporate jack-assery.
I'm going to work at (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement) knowing the metaphorical I.T. flames are at least waist high in every area. I've had hang ups with "Human Resources" already and a botched background check (Stupid NSA forgot to cover up the unpleasantness known only as "Sarajevo 1997" again -- Tax dollars at work? I think not!) followed by a successful drug screen (I'll never work anywhere without a drug test again so help me.) but they have already ordered my BlackBerry. Even though I specifically told them I have an allergy.
Anyway, fingers crossed that blogger.com is available through the corporate firewall!

I apologize for the brief post. I'm dragging the family on a road trip while I do some freelance network security work.
There was a game last night with significant developments for two of the characters and (finally) financial rewards for all four. I feel dirty.
I'll do my best to post from the road.

w00+!

Casual jeans Friday! Casual jeans Friday!

I knew for the game tonight I wanted a few specific elements.
I wanted another battle alongside their brave hired boat captain.
I wanted weird Xen'drik jungle beasts.
I wanted some kind of dungeon crawl.
And I wanted a reward that makes up for the past two (count them, TWO!) sessions of treasure-free gaming.
As a side note, I find it interesting how well gamers respond to negative reinforcement.
We accelerated the schedule for this game by a week. With prep time at a premium, I started jotting down notes and marking monster stat blocks.
I devised traps and poisons and spells.
And this morning I threw it all out after a night of EverQuest and will attempt to start fresh today.
I hope to have it all sorted out before the group arrives.
Last night I finished part 1 of 'Planet Hulk', the new storyline in The Incredible Hulk comics.
In the current incarnation, the Hulk is merged with the consciousness of Dr. Bruce Banner but is still overcome with uncontrollable rage from time to time. He is kind of an always indestructible super strong Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
He has a recent history of being especially erratic.
S.H.I.E.L.D. sends him on a mission to destroy a rogue satellite and, instead of shuttling him back to Earth, Mr. Fantastic and a group of other heroes decide to send him to a pastoral planet in the middle of nowhere with no sentient life. They have decided they can't trust him and they can't destroy him, so they send him away.
Of course, this is a comic book and the destination was supposed to be peaceful, so a wormhole opens up and sends the Hulk to a brutal world where he is sold into slavery and forced to fight as a gladiator.
Part one is violent and harsh and delightful.
I expect that the Hulk will be on this weird planet until at least the end of the Marvel Civil War storyline. Convenient!
I guess no one wanted either "Hulk smash conspiracies!" or "Hulk smash basic civil rights modified without vote by elected officials to determine secret identity! Hulk hate Banner!"
Ok. "Blogger need coffee! Blogger smash kidneys!"