Today was a strange day.
I am back on development at work, which means I no longer have to pick the damn helpdesk phone up (and, related to that, my phone doesn’t ring thirty times a damn day). I’m making it sound worse than it was really. The big advantage of working as “1st Line Support” means that you can be so busy that the day flies by. Conversely if there are no “active” calls, you sit wondering what to do.
If past experience is anything to go by, unless you have some kind of armour plated mind, the previous paragraph has probably put you into a very deep sleep indeed. I promise not to write about work again in this post.
I’ve been having a great laugh recently “taking part” in the internet for a change. I joined “MySpace” and have been slightly taken aback by people actually being interested in meIt’s a hard feeling to explain - knowing that somebody made the effort to say hi, and that they chose you to say it to.
The internet is great for making friends, isn’t it. You can be on the opposite side of the planet from somebody else, in a different culture entirely, and yet at heart we are all human beings, and we all (well, most of us) love making new friends and finding out how people live elsewhere.
I’m in the best mood I’ve been in for a while - it might have something to do with getting back in touch with my cousin in the US, that I had lost touch with for a while. Well… we didn’t really lose touch - we just forgot about each other, and forgot how happy we make each other when we do keep in contact.
I remember many years ago I flew her in (secretly) to a family wedding and she said something I’ve never forgotten. When I was younger I was quite shy - I get over it these days by forcing myself to make conversation with people I don’t know (I guess at some point I figured out that other people have just as much trouble breaking the ice, so I give them an “in”). Anyway - we were out with an aunt of mine, and she remarked that I had changed - that I had always been seen as putting up some kind of wall, and that nobody in the family really knew the real me - except my american cousin. I asked her why that might be and she said “your walls are made of mud, and I am the rain”.