it's sort of like this

Workish

Friday I discovered that our sharepoint individual sites at work have their own wiki-esque thing, where one can paste in entire Excel test scripts and create tags for them. To say that was the best thing to happen to me since January says something.

Okay, almost the best. Third best, let's say.

The second best thing was that this build is over and the next build is light. To combat this, the next build is light because the build after that one is going to be like this one, and God help me, I am going to be testing the arrival of IE 8 as the state browser of choice for eligibility programs.

Note about the wiki, however; my supervisor wandered over and I excitedly showed her wikiness, because I've really wanted a way to organize the last four years of tests and yeah, this will take a while. She stared at it and then at me.

Her: Will people see this?

Me: No? *realization* Oh, no, I'm not blogging on this. This is to organize my tests.

(Note: there is also a sharepoint blog for each employee. Hilarious.)

Her: You're sure?

Me: If I blogged under my name in public, I'd be nice.

Her: I've read your defects. They're also public in the agency.

Me: No, no worries; when I blog in public, I never do it under my real name.

As you can probably guess, everyone felt so much better hearing that.

Monday

So far this morning svmadelyn has been receiving offerings of depressing CNN news from me in lieu of staring at the wall vibrating with impatience.

I've felt super distracted for a few days, and I can't really explain why except for the fact I apparently skipped out about a week of thyroid medication somehow, which even for me is strange, because--and if you have a thyroid condition, you know this--going off for too long is like an instantaneous attack of Famine combined with the attention skillsets of a magpie and hard insomnia fighting the good fight against wanting to sleep all the time.

Okay, that last part is new; I didn't know my body could do that, or do it so bizarrely, combining periods of half-sleep with unbearable awakeness with some kind of near-coma that covers a period of time long enough and still enough to wake up with everything--and I do mean everything--hurting, especially my back.

It's not that I have ever modeled healthy sleep patterns--my very first bout of depression in my teens means I still don't trust sleep entirely and I'm not even going to pretend at least half my insomnia problem is pretty much entirely subconsciously training myself to ignore it until I can't anymore.

I'm saying, I feel very, very weird.

So Yeah

So this is going to be very cute, so I need you to brace yourselves before clicking. Because it's been four years, okay, and I can do this.







The white one is Prince Birmingham of Malaysia, the grey one is Rain. Yes, the white one is mine and I'll be honest with you, that's not the name I had in mind, but every so often--you know how you can get all stubborn at random without knowing why? It was a thing with my mother. Don't ask.

Yeah, I call him Birmy.

The short version of this story is, I woke up to one (1) Child, one (1) niece, and one (1) blanket held by niece holding two (2) rabbits last weekend. Apparently, one of them was mine. How this series of events occurred is unclear to pretty much everyone involved, including me because seriously, what the hell.

Here is what little I have worked out from three (3) interviews of two (2) sisters and my mother: Birmy and Rain were hand raised by a minister in a church Somewhere in Austin (apparently, no one knows the exact location of this God-sanctioned rabbit paradise; they also have no clue why they bought them, so just--go with it). Birmy has longish hair and very tiny ears and is really, really young, being just about the size of my hand.

He has yet to scratch, bite, suffocate, or try to kill me in various rabbit-related ways, and I cannot swear to this, but the little fucker purrs when I pet him and then he snuggles. There was a period of time last night he and Rain curled up between my neck and chin on a blanket, sat on my hand, and groomed me hopefully before dozing off, loose-limbed and trusting and furry. I mean, I almost forgot the last time I let a rabbit near my throat, that's how freaked out I am by all this rabbit affection (hint: terror). They enjoy being hand-fed. I kind of get the impression they don't see any reason to feed themselves if someone's willing to do it for them, actually.

The two of them find dogs boring (dogs bark; Rain snorts and Birmy looks contemptuous), enjoy exploratory running, and climbing onto people's shoulders when being carried to observe the world and get really impatient if you don't get with the program and get a hand under their asses for support.

Interesting note: you do not forget your rabbit salads, apparently. After a week of pellets cut with fresh vegetables and water and some fruit so I could see how they were eating, I'm comfortable enough that they've transitioned into pet life to hit Central Market like the wrath of God for organic lettuces and hits of kale and greens and restart the entire Rabbit Feeding production. I don't even have anything anymore from before except my books, so I've been trying to make lists of what they need and what they will want to play with and trying not to panic.

I'm just so confused. See tag if you need context. I'm also terrified and nauseated and I have no idea if this is a good idea. Tag for context on that, too.