Needles 

IV cannulation practice begins tomorrow. If anyone needs any sharp objects inserting into any delicate tubes, HMU.

TFW unrecognised DHCP lease on wired network.

The fire was still lit when I got up, and I just cooked a shamefully Scottish breakfast. I almost don't care whether my motorcycle got stolen overnight.

I should check whether my motorcycle got stolen overnight.

Working from home was always a bit lonely, and I thought I was comfortable with that, but those occasional days in the office were satisfying a need for human interaction that I didn't admit I had.

When I retired(!) from IT a couple of years ago I developed a habit of playing TV shows on my desktop, I suspect just to hear voices.

The stick doesn't have the spare horses for that, so for the first time in years I'm listening to music, and, boy, is it easier to be productive.

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One week into using this Intel Compute Stick as my daily driver and so far so good.

Office is quieter, and colder.

We had decided to leave it a little while before thinking about getting another dog, but the wife made the mistake of looking, and I'm afraid we're off over the hill to see these little heart-melters at the weekend.

IRIX tinkering yesterday, and today I'm reading K&R on the way to the pub, listening to Rage Against the Machine. Not a deliberate attempt to relive my first student days, but it might as well be.

It's that time of year again, when I have to fire up the Altix to dry out my flooded workshop.

Just one final practical assessment and I'll be half way through this paramedicine degree. This semester has kicked my entire ass. I think I managed the first year because it was building on the quals I had to get to be a volunteer, and of course there was no lockdown, my kids were at school, and I didn't have a weeks of bronchitis. I am wrung out.

Reckon I'll drop back to part time study for the foreseeable. It'll mean longer out of work, but I'll pay more attention to my wife and kids.

Printing out six pages of HR horseshit in order to sign the last page, scan it and email it back.

Life has meaning after all.

When I've got spare time again, I'm going to have to retire my old Synology to fileserving only. I don't know what spooky crap it's doing with DNS under the hood, but I spent long enough manually fixing their broken Postfix config every time they updated it that I don't care to find out.

I wonder if I can get a non-proprietary OS on there? Hmm.

That thing where you give up composing a toot half way through because it's too emotionally raw and decide to go make a cup of tea instead.

Very British.

You know how it takes your brain a second to realise that the noise you're hearing isn't an isolated rumble, it's an earthquake? Well, one time, in a packed ED, I helped a patient off the stretcher and they let out a fart so long and loud that my internal monologue went from "isolated rumble" to "drop, cover and hold!" for the duration. Time stood still until a tiny voice said "oh, I do beg your pardon."

I had to stop revising acute abdominal pain today to laugh at that all over again.

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