November 13th, 2002

planet

it's all about how you eat lunch

So my big aircraft kit didn't route today. Damn. It was soo close to being released the day before the due date... but it won't work.

But it is pretty darn ready to route. Just because the release guys leave at like 3:30, doesn't mean I'm going to get down about it. There's a big packet of paper on my desk filled with appropriate signatures ready to be walked around campus first thing tomorrow morning.

In honor of that little fact, I'm drinking. mmm. margarita.

I can't decide if this is a big huge hard kit being given to me as a test, or if this is just a totally normal one and everyone is wondering why I'm freaking out about stuff and why it took until the due date to finish? I guess the answer probably lies in the middle somewhere. Either way, I think about it waaaay too much.

Oh, and for the third time since I started, I ate lunch at my desk while working. Damn! I'm one of those people! One of the guys I work with does this every day, he's given up on the thought of ever having an actual break. He writes cert reports for the group. Sometimes I think, no, I know I'd be really good at writing cert reports. Like, our main writer got behind and had to have another guy help with a report, and this second guy couldn't even make complete sentences. He honestly sent us an e-mail today that said, "I go this link and though you could use it." It was bad. They really need me to write, and they know I can write, and it's going to happen, it's just a matter of when. Once, during my first week, I asked someone when I'd write a report and he was like, "Don't say that to anyone! Don't even ask! If they think you're good at it, or you don't mind doing it, you'll get stuck with all of them and you'll hate your life!"

This is a possiblity. I mean, our report writer guy doesn't get to engineer anything. But he does get to go to lots of important meanings. And he gets presents and packages from vendors. Vendors give the best gifts! I already have a letter opener, a swiss army knife, a badge holder, and a whole lot of pens from vendors. I'd get more if I was in charge of certifying their stuff on our airplanes with my reports.

But I'd also be a writer. According to most engineers, I'm supposed to hate even the thought of this possibility.

For now, I'm being safe and not mentioning the fact that I have a minor in technical writing. It's always easier to volunteer information than to pull it back, so that's the route I'll go for.

And of course, good cert report writers are hard to find, and spread very thin, so I'd probably eat lunch at my desk while working almost every day. I'd have a two-hour grazing process like the guy I work with now.

He eats tofu on rye bread every day. That's the most disgusting thing I can imagine in the world.
small

bird stuff

just spend some quality time with my parakeet, aggamemnon.

Her foot does not seem to be getting better. Dammit! Her little toes just don't work, they hang down limp and she can't cling to things with that foot. The vet said it was because of a swollen kidney, give her this medicine for ten days and call it good. I guess it has only been seven days. But I want her to be better.

She's not biting as much, that's nice. I've found that throwing a towel over her to hold her while I medicate her (she gets a tiny little drop out of a syringe twice a day) doesn't work as well as just grabbing her with my hand, and she doesn't mind that as much as I thought. I figured she'd take a chunk out of my finger or something, but she hasn't, especially when I hold her close to my robe and she's so distracted by the terrycloth (terrycloth... wheee! so many things to chew on!) that she doesn't seem to mind being held.

I'm so happy with my birds living with me. College was tough, only getting to see them every month or so. They started to act like they didn't even know me that well. But aggy definately knows me now, and she knows Dave, she flys over to us to see what we're doing, it's nuts. I was eating dinner tonight and she about landed in my food, freaked me out. I gave her some lettuce, that made her happy.

Afterwards we kinda hung out, she sat on my hand and chewed on my fingers some and let me pet her, which is a little funny, she usually doesn't like it when I even pretend to touch her. She gets in cuddly moods sometimes. When she was a baby that's all we did. She was born in my room my sophomore year of high school, hatched out of one of those eggs we never thought would hatch, and it totally freaked me out. Baby birds are nasty looking. Thin skin stretched across organs. A funny wormy alien looking thing. And noisy... a lot noisier than you'd ever imagine something smaller than your thumb being. But she grew on me and we'd spend all kinds of time cuddling because she was a baby and didn't know any better, she'd eat whatever I offered out of my hand, she'd make great efforts to hobble across the carpet and fall asleep right up against me. The vet said she wouldn't live more than a few days... ha! she made it this far!

So it annoys me to see her not feeling well. She had a lung infection last summer that required medication, we could tell because her feathers didn't look healthy, but she got over that. I really want her to get over this kidney issue but feel kind of helpless.

She's what... seven years old? I think she was born in august, 1995. Parakeets can have a 15 year life expecency, so she's practically middle-aged, she's like... 35 in human years or something. If that works. Either way, I'm going to try to stay optimistic about this thing, aggy can beat anything if she puts her mind to it.