VERY tired. Today was supposed to be a big release at work. Respected Partners were to provide us with a software fix. At 12:30AM, it was not there. I slept. I woke at 6AM (even though I had set the alarm for an hour later) and staggered around a bit, then got onto the work laptop with crunchy virtual private tunnel action, and checked out the email, and their site, and the files had appeared on their server sometime around 3:45am.
So I started to crossload them - and found that the lovely Comcast network decided to ratchet my upload speeds to something a bit below dial-up after 15 minutes of decent speed. So, I got into work at 7am.
Got stuff uploaded and in place, discovered that there were some Issues with what they'd sent, started looking at it, and learned that they had increased the size of this thing three times by adding a hundred new libraries... and we were already dangerously close to the maximum size for the flash that our product loads out of. Yeah. And there was a showstopper bug still in there.
So. At 3:30 I decided I should go home as I was already at 8 hours. Then I realized I might need to upload another release, and wanted to do it from my Linux box rather than deal with routing through the laptop and My Comcast. Took another 45 minutes to finish and get out of there. Got home at 4:30, and it's now 7:02 and I still haven't done anything I needed to do.
Reading divalea's journal, I was distracted by someone mentioning that they didn't get to see a friend before she died, and I followed. Turns out this was someone I had met in passing on the internet and perhaps in person at conventions - _redpanda_ - and that she died in 2005, on or around the day we found out that rubyloot's cancer had returned... and I followed some of the memorials he made, stuff I haven't been able to do yet myself. I also learned that SixApart has a special status for livejournals of people who have died - they are never deleted for inactivity. I wish I'd known to think about deletion. Yahoo deleted all the letters in rubyloot's mailbox. Six or more years of conversation and information that I greatly resent losing.