Yesterday a few nice people celebrated Petters coming of age. Or even-further aging, if you prefer, since 33 isn’t really a milestone as these things go. Yay for Petter, for he is a jolly good fellow.
I got into a sour mood at the end because people were doing the “territorial pissing dance” and elbowing me. Either I find a party where people are polite and don’t dance only to pick someone up, or I stop dancing. Or I drink less – drinking makes Mateusz annoyed and grumpy, like an old person who is annoyed and grumpy.
I’m not certain if I should keep on Twittering. Sooner or later someone will take those messages seriously and come knocking on my door.
I wake up to a kernel panik on my computer, and the drive is making desperate sounds; it wispers “Kill me, kiiiiiill me”. Three hours and a lot of worry later I’m one drive short short of a raid, but ought to be up to speed soon since I actually have a backup of the more important stuff. It’s a drag though. I had just gotten a few good documentaries that I was looking forward to.
There’s a quiz I’m going to. Wont be able to answer any question, but maybe doghairs are good things.