![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
she could use a little money
Wednesday, 25 February 2009 12:18 pmGawsh. I just scored a 20% payrise, courtesy of (a) the standard 10% university-wide increase, and (b) a hike after my performance review. My boss: "We think you walk on water." Huh. After a month of 11-hour days you'd better bloody believe it, particularly since I hid all those decapitated student bodies very carefully. This job frequently gives me the pip, but it's also giving me Useful Skillz in such areas as bullshit, organisation, politicking, circumnavigation, psychotic notice-writing, and corpse disposal. Also, apparently, money, which under current circumstances is damned well timed.
Finished Fable the other night. Arb boss. Nice graphics, but a complete anticlimax, and way too easy. If I, with all the lethal button-mashing abilities of a slice of aged cheese, find it too easy, the designers have Serious Problems. On the whole, though, I'd judge the game to have given me slightly more actual enjoyment than reasons to kvetch; it's just a pale, sad shadow of the Morrowind experience. I'm spoiled, is all.
I am currently filling my empty evenings by re-reading my entire Diana Wynne Jones collection in reverse chronological order, which is demonstrating a sad and inescapable truth: there is not a single chair in the house on which one can curl up for an evening's reading without experiencing serious buttular discomfort. (The Old Finnish Ice-Sitting Injury strikes back). Fortunately the Evil Landlord ordered two new giant sofas over the weekend, with very soft cushions we tested by determinedly sitting on every sofa in the warehouse. The manufacturers should disgorge them sometime in March, at which time we shall devise interesting fates for the truly dreadful current incarnations of lounge furniture. I'm thinking either fire or beheading; the EL wants to lob them over the wall at Mrs. Cake, our evil neighbour, with a catapult.
Finished Fable the other night. Arb boss. Nice graphics, but a complete anticlimax, and way too easy. If I, with all the lethal button-mashing abilities of a slice of aged cheese, find it too easy, the designers have Serious Problems. On the whole, though, I'd judge the game to have given me slightly more actual enjoyment than reasons to kvetch; it's just a pale, sad shadow of the Morrowind experience. I'm spoiled, is all.
I am currently filling my empty evenings by re-reading my entire Diana Wynne Jones collection in reverse chronological order, which is demonstrating a sad and inescapable truth: there is not a single chair in the house on which one can curl up for an evening's reading without experiencing serious buttular discomfort. (The Old Finnish Ice-Sitting Injury strikes back). Fortunately the Evil Landlord ordered two new giant sofas over the weekend, with very soft cushions we tested by determinedly sitting on every sofa in the warehouse. The manufacturers should disgorge them sometime in March, at which time we shall devise interesting fates for the truly dreadful current incarnations of lounge furniture. I'm thinking either fire or beheading; the EL wants to lob them over the wall at Mrs. Cake, our evil neighbour, with a catapult.
