This has been a hell of a week so far. With Espen gone from work on vacation, I have to cover for him – meaning that I’m now the primary technical contact for costumers on three continents, spanning about 18 time zones. So when I have left work and are enjoying my evening, people on the other side of the globe come to work and expect me to be there, too. It’s fun when it works out, but not so much fun when you have to bug fix something in the blind because the client has decided to share no documentation with you at all and the people who might be able to dig it up is nowhere to be found. But I was able to work it out eventually. So who am I to complain?
Summer is finally here. It arrived on Saturday when we were having Ola‘s stag party, which was an interesting fifteen hours of drinking. We enjoyed fjord rafting, recorded two songs in a semi-professional studio, drank considerable amounts of beer and even saw a couple of boobs. So who am I to complain?
My only problem with summer is that I get, as you know, an allergic reaction when the grass pollen starts spreading. Today they measured the worst concentrations of birch pollen ever in Oslo, but I didn’t notice it at all. It’s a bit strange; even though I’m not directly allergic to birch pollen I usually have a minor allergic reaction when there is a lot of it in the air. But not this year. So who am I to complain?
To those of you who have been sending me new one-liners lately: Updating the list is on The List.