Thursday's trauma was brought to us by the letter "L" and the number "420".
I started getting calls from the "account care" team at about noon. On our internal customer profiles website, the contacts for (account name starting with "L", but deleted from this post to comply with non-disclosure agreement) are missing.
I went to the page and looked and yes, the contacts were missing.
The "account care" team emailed again to let me know that the contacts for all the accounts starting with "L" were missing.
I checked this, too.
Then I got my third email, mostly in all caps, about the information being missing from all accounts, not just "L" accounts.
Since the web site itself belongs to someone else -- someone at lunch -- I decided to go to lunch, too.
As I passed a co-worker's office I heard, "Dude! You have to help me!"
Slowly curling into a fetal position while frantically typing commands was (co-worker's name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement). "I think I broke the customer profiles website."
A machine error is different than a technician error. Machines get repaired. Technicians get fired.
I told him everything would be alright and I went back to work on the problem. By this time, the website had shut itself down completely.
While I restored basic operations, the co-worker told me he had unleashed a spider on the site to copy (not remove) the data.
After some questions on my part, it was revealed that the spider had not been tested on a non-production server. Also, the copy of the program used was pirated. It need not be stated (though I will clarify just in case) that the tech in question would fail a drug test.
After a quick (less than an hour, start to finish) restore from back up, the site was back to normal.
Since I still hadn't had lunch, I left. When I got back, the same co-worker flagged me out of the hall to show me what the goal had been.
He pulled up a command prompt and typed. He asked me for a server name so I gave him the mail server name for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement). He completed the command, hit 'enter', and (after a brief pause) the contact information from the profiles website was displayed. I guess it is for people who don't have the website up already. Even though it is a link away from the homepage everyone is assigned through group policy.
Ok.
I smiled and nodded and walked back to my desk. As I started to sit down I heard a technician place his call on hold and announce, "Mail just died for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement) and they have no idea what is going on. Is anyone working on it?"
I spat Coke Zero and dashed back out to let the guy know. Then I laughed a lot.
Plans for today include unsubscribing to emails and skipping out as soon as possible.

There is fire alarm testing this morning before the normal people get here. This is SCREAMING high-pitched extremely loud noise and strobe lights. Before coffee.
This does not bode well for productivity, but I should finish posting this before the noise stops. If I turn my head slightly, the sound warbles in my head.
Strangely, most of the alarm output devices are within ten feet of my desk.
There was a bit more trauma yesterday about the paper balls and when they should be thrown at each other. We have windows on three sides and customers can look in pretty much any time. As long as they don't tap the glass. We hate that.
At the moment the "compromise" being embraced by the technical side is to throw glue sticks instead of paper balls, but I'm not sure that is really in line with the spirit of the request from sales, even if it does follow the letter.
I'm not in favor of the glue stick compromise because it sounds too much like we are concerned about the demands of the sales staff and not just being ourselves.
Also, glue sticks hurt. I've got a weird crescent-shaped bruise I noticed this morning that exactly matches the size of the cap of a glue stick.
Another civil uprising is developing involving the on-call rotation for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement) downtown. The way it works, the four people who got stuck with the on-call rotation have a week off, then a week on, then a week as back up, then a week off again. We get paid more for being primary than back up, and nothing for the two weeks off.
No one has an issue with that, but the way it is structured is if the on-call person is called downtown a third time in a week he gets a bonus. As a result, the customer has been calling the on-call person twice a week for six hours at a time, since they don't pay extra for having the on-call person there longer.
One of the on-call people refuses to go until this is corrected. Since I'm his back up and have to go for him, I would draw his on-call primary pay. It isn't a good deal. He's right about that.
After paying for parking and losing that much middle of the night sleep it is hardly worth it.
He suggested that if I go, I'm a scab. I'm not sure that is accurate, since he hasn't organized a formal protest. Either way, my reaction was a sudden and almost instinctive, "I ain't no scab!" I don't even use the word "ain't", I just channeled a turn of the century coal miner or something.
I don't know how that is going to play out. There isn't anyone else to do it, so they can't really replace the on-call people. We agreed to the deal not knowing how the customer would work it but I'm not sure what can really be done.
Plans for today include completing some inane paperwork, then working a while for the Paper Ball Liberation Front and filling up the petition I created for End On-call Abuse Now. I've also posted a note inside the Men's Room door that thanks the reader for participating in our "sit in".

Tuesday night was all about a hunt for the undead.
Shana, Joe and Adrian were up for potentially wasting an evening visiting spooky places, so we started out expedition around 10pm.
I outlined our plans:
First, we would visit the haunted bridge behind out subdivision. This visit was brief, as the bridge is on a blind curve on a pretty busy road. I don't think anyone got a creepy feeling.
We may have captured orbs on film, but I have not reviewed the footage gathered.
My gut feeling? No orbs on the spooky old haunted bridge behind our subdivision.
After that adventure, we headed towards Patterson Road, the reported location of two haunted bridges near an old Civil War battlefield and the old Addicks settlement, now submerged under the Addicks reservoir.
A police officer kicked us out of the park we attempted to drive through on the way. I think they must develop a sixth sense for hooliganism. Undeterred, we turned off the four lane Eldridge Parkway for the bumpy old two lane Patterson Road.
We stopped on the Langham Creek bridge and listened. We scanned the woods for the skittering dead. We waited until we saw headlights. The headlights of the damned? No. A minivan.
Paranormal investigators had about the same experience on that bridge but the Bear Creek bridge was pretty spooky for them. We shot passed it and let the minivan get around us on the narrow, shoulderless road.
On the way back we were better able to pause on the more haunted bridge, but again headlights chased us away before anything definitively creepy happened.
We drove up to Clay Road and back down Highway 6 to the old road that leads to Cullen Park. The goal was to visit a cemetery that is closed to the public. The most recent grave is about a century old and the site is surrounded by a barbed wire topped cyclone fence. The point is the headstones are reported to glow, most likely because of the mineral content but possibly due to the restless dead.
The cemetery is maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers as the family no longer uses the place. The dead are lonely.
The road towards the park was definitely creepier than Patterson. I stopped at one point and backed up to look at an armadillo scurrying through the underbrush. I think we all agreed that he was cute and probably scurrying away from ghost orbs we could not see with the naked eye.
We passed the little airport that specializes in restored older planes and discovered the park road was gated off and plainly marked "Closed". What kind of public park closes before midnight? Is this why I pay taxes?
I turned around to head home and was immediately proclaimed a coward by my co-ghost hunters. OMG!
After some discussion, it was decided that Shana would drop us off near the gate and the three of us would walk in, visit the graves, and walk out. We could call Shana on the cell phone if there was an emergency or if we needed bail or whatever.
We hopped out, I turned on the camera and we entered the darkened park.
Joe repeatedly heard footsteps pacing us and spotted a homeless person in the public restroom near the parking lot. We didn't go anywhere near that area.
In fairness, we assumed he was homeless. He may have been a wilderness enthusiast or even fellow law-breaking ghost hunter.
We turned off the paved road and marched into the woods along a narrow walking path. It was so dark I almost missed the cemetery. We trudged off the path and walked over to the fence.
Nothing. No glow, no zombies, no "I'd have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids," nothing. I'm not even sure there was enough light for the camera to pick up anything.
On the bright side, none of us were eaten by the hungry dead. Also, Shana picked us up as she promised.
By this time, it was almost midnight. We may visit the spooky old hospital later, but that trip is a lot more involved and that location is dangerous due to the living occupants (mostly drug users and fugitives) so precautions will need to be taken.
Either way, I needed sleep. I've been having trouble self-editing lately.
Yesterday afternoon a salesperson walked into the NOCC and said, "You guys need to stop throwing paper balls at each other! We are having a client meeting next door and he can see things flying around in here!"
Without thinking I said, "We don't tell you how to do your job."
When I realized she wasn't laughing I added, "these paper balls aren't going to throw themselves, you know."
Yeah, so being well-rested is important. Lack of sleep spoils my aim and I already throw like an I.T. worker.
Plans for today include coffee and trying to figure out a broken computer thingy.

Monday I skipped out on work. It was pretty cool.
We finished the stuff we needed to do pretty early and grabbed coffee and kicked around until we could get into a movie.
Sunday night my lovely spouse and I attended a birthday gathering for a co-worker.
There were some weird workplace revelations for me, but the last sober people just seem to become everybody's priest or therapist eventually. It is the stage just past "sudden best friend".
There was an age difference at this party. We were about six years older than the next youngest person and about fifteen years younger than the next oldest. We were a bit of a thirty-something island.
Here is some stuff I learned from the collected experiences of my co-workers:

1. The drunk tank is not as cool now as it was a couple of years ago.
2. People with pure bred dogs tend to have a lot of things depicting that breed of dog.
3. Stoner math = 1 bag of chips is never enough.
4. I learned that our Director of IT is actually afraid of me and that's why he never talks to me.
5. There is a reason why I'm still employed even without an official on-the-books-type function.

I'll explain the last two in detail.
Things are cyclical in any company. Initiatives are born and they die pretty quickly only to be renamed and reborn another day. Sometimes the same people are attached to these "Zombie Projects" and sometimes "new blood" is needed.
At my company, one of these is "Product Definitions". See, we (and by "we" I mean our awesome sales team) offer a few different services.
People can have space and metered power, for example. That's basically real estate for computer hardware. We house it and protect it but if it breaks we won't know (or care unless you give us more money).
After that, we sell something called "Level 1". Level one is . . . um . . . well . . . we keep track of whether or not the server is powered on . . . and we might fix it . . . . kind of depends, I guess.
Ok, but "Level 3" we do "everything"! What's everything? Well, we monitor and fix and notify. Did you need other stuff? Yeah, we can do that, too. I'll just let the guys in the NOCC know they'll need to (insert freaking crazy impossible crap here) and as soon as you move your stuff in, your problems are all ours.
We sold one customer "Level 4" but no one knows what that is other than "more expensive" than "Level 3".
"Level 2" does not exist as far as I know. But it might. In fact, if someone is interested I can almost guarantee we would sell it.
So the products are in major need of definitions. However, if sales are bad it is because we don't have good definitions. If sales are good, who needs definitions? Why limit ourselves?
The first time I got dragged into a definitions meeting I asked questions. A lot of questions.
Some that I remember were:

"If we sell someone 'Level 3' and they bring in broken crap, do we fix it for free?"
"What if their stuff does specific junk and it isn't documented? Are we responsible if they don't tell us?"
"If they carry a server in and it breaks on the way in do we get blamed?"
"Do they provide the installation media?"
"When we are creating the documentation they didn't provide, if something breaks can we call them to find out what it did before we try to fix it?"
"Is there any solid guideline for anything?"

That meeting was declared a bust and the project was tabled -- for a while.
When I started this job it was non-stop firefighting. Junk broke and we had no triage standards or procedures so everything just got fixed when it got fixed. We were understaffed and completely blamed for everything. It was an awful time and right in the middle of it our Director called a meeting. He went around the room, yelling at people about schedules and paperwork and how everyone needs to assist the sales team and then he turned to me.
"How does the Windows team prioritize work?"
I considered it for a moment and then replied,"If I've got thirty things to do, and I'm going to get yelled at for the twenty-nine that don't get fixed, then I'll work on the one that is interesting. Not boring me is the sole criteria I work with for establishing what gets done first."
He had no response and I've thought for months that he was too angry to reply.
It turns out he had no idea if I was kidding. And I wasn't.
Since then he avoids me because he never knows how to take me. How awesome is that?
This is part of the reason I'm still employed, I guess. The main reason seems to be that I'm a "morale booster" when things really suck. My smart-assed comments have reduced turn over and improved productivity.
Honestly. That's not at all made up.
I guess it is a bit like a slacker super power, but snarkier.
Now I must find a way to use my powers for evil.

That is my project for Tuesday. And maybe someone will be brave enough to go ghost hunting after dark. So far, no takers.

Game night was awesome, as always.
Our 'Werewolf: The Forsaken' chronicle barrels onward.
Following last week's nasty fight at the cathedral, the survivors were left to pick up and start over.
Last night was all about establishing territory all over again and building back a chain of authority.
Nothing can kill a campaign quite as completely as long drawn-out political discussion, but Darrell kept things moving fast enough for everyone to be involved.
Also, I grilled.
I challenged everyone to a late-night ghost hunt later this week and I'm waiting to see who backs out. I've been digging at websites to find spooky semi-local spots.
Ghost hunting seems like a logical (and inexpensive) night time thing to do.
It turns out the road right behind our subdivision has a history of spookiness.
Also, we are only a few miles from a creepy bridge.
We may even make it over to an old hospital if we are feeling brave or drunk.

I just posted this on my Reef Message Board:

"Public apology -

Hey everybody,

I was scheduled to be a stop on the tour today, but yesterday I got back from a short trip to find all three circulation pumps and my return pump dead.
The tank looks really pretty nasty and there was a lot of splashing and flooding while I tried to get everything going again last night.
The return pump is also making a loud sucking noise which is depressing from wherever I am in the house.

Until last night, the tank was too boring to comment much on. I think the water quality is still pretty good (I tested last night but not yet today) and while I expect a small spike, I doubt any lasting damage was done.
The timing was just really the worst possible and I apologize for messing up the tour today.

Thanks,

G"

There is a LOT of gunk that can get stirred up in a healthy reef tank.
Shana and I are still trying to figure out what to do with ourselves. I was voted down on the crime spree plan.
Boredom has set in.
Last night I woke up at about three and the cat who normally sleeps next to me was silent. Since she normally snores (deviated septum) I reached over to verify that she was breathing. I couldn't feel her ribs moving and she was cold to the touch.
Of course, I freaked out and shook her, which she did not appreciate. The annoyed look I got was much better than her being dead.
Her fur was just cold because she was sleeping right under the ceiling fan.
I know. This story probably belonged in the cat blog, but since it involved me being scared of the dark and death I decided to put it here.
There may be a game tonight, but no one has responded to me about it.

So Gwynyth is completely leaving town today and we are pretty sad about it.
She is going to stay with her grandfather for a week or so. Actually, we are pretty fuzzy on the return date.
Shana hasn't been apart from her for this long since they were physically connected, so there is a little anxiety there. Also, we haven't had a lot of evenings where we don't need to drag Gwynyth to the tattoo parlour with us or make it home early to let the sitter know that she can go home and that whatever happened is probably pretty normal for our kid.
Suddenly, we have evenings as a playground.
It is a given that we will be attending Micron's House Warming Party. It shouldn't matter that we have no idea who in the hell "Micron" is. His new place is close to us, kind of. Plus, we don't have to worry about that skank Leanna showing up. Don't you just hate her? I know Micron and I have a "No Leanna" policy.
Seriously, I think pool may be played at some point. As we've covered, I suck at pool but alcohol helps. We may attend some movies with cursing that start after it gets dark. Maybe even scary non-princess-centric movies.
We need to do something. One of the TVs in the NOCC was playing a commercial for a lawnmower and I was really impressed. I went to the website and ordered a catalog, people. I don't think I've ever felt older.
We need to break into the community pool at midnight and then steal someone's lawn goose.
We must go shopping at Super Target at 1:30am and laugh when the store detective starts shadowing us.
We can light a huge fire in the fire pit and dance around it like ancient druids (no offense to any currently practicing druids and I'm sorry about the nerf to your Dungeons and Dragons class) while grilling food, drinking wine, and singing Irish pub songs.
But what do we do tomorrow night?
Oh yeah. This Saturday night may be game night . . . So it is pretty much a repeat of the steps outlined above, but with dice and not getting up.
I'm still slogging through Crisis on Infinite Earths. I'm at the point where I'm really just ready for the anti-matter to go ahead and destroy everything just to stop the whining.
I'm also reading a game novel which I can't get into and the House of M X-Men storyline which I got in electronic format.
I believe that learning is a life-long progress. Right now, I'm just learning about meta-humans and mutants.
Plans for today include work, meetings and avoiding work and meetings followed by sending my daughter off for vacation and the steps detailed above.
Plus drinking, probably.