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azurelunatic: Cordless phone showing a heart.  (phone)
10:44 AM 3/9/2007
I feel feverish. This is either me, what I'm wearing, or the building just being warm.

12:22 PM 3/9/2007
One of the advantages to the ability to check e-mail every now and then throughout the day in a lull is that if one of the subscriptions that one has made in order to start testing out the duties of helping moderate a comm has landed a troll comment in one's inbox, one can then e-mail said comment right to the actual maintainer, who can deal with the troll with speed and efficiency. All in under ten minutes, with no other responses to the troll besides my very bland "That is a very unrelated link. You may be commenting in the wrong community." Flamewar contained at the first spark. (Well, the flamewar is up and raging over in the linked discussion, but not right in the comm where I'm watching.)

2:23 PM 3/9/2007
omfg. omfg. omfg. I can't escape from them. They are some of the nicest people in the world, and omfg. Snarky Lady's Lead Minion is not, not, not a computer person. She's not trained in reading the common UI, so she's very computer-illiterate. I've been teaching her what some of the symbols mean, like the little arrow in the corner for the shortcuts. I guess some people don't really pick up on the visual cues for the UI as fast as someone else would. But someone has to teach her each UI "word"; she's not one of those people who picks up things and then starts picking up more on her own.

The latest? She's been signing out on what she fondly believes to be the timesheet.
Problem is, she's not been. It's been a copy of the sheet, on the desktop of the machine she's been working from. She was wondering why there was already data in there from previous days, but it never occurred to her that she should tell someone and get help with it.

I explained that it was a "fake", amazingly enough without profanity. I explained the concept of a shortcut to the machine in the back room. I explained how all the machines out in Field are using a shortcut to the machine in the back room. I showed the arrows to her. I showed the place in Excel where it displays the path of the current file.

Snarky Lady told her to cut her nails. (She has these daggers on her fingers. Well, not daggers. They're very clean, very nice, very well-kept artificial nails. I think they're artificial. They're clear-polished, whatever they are. But she can't type. It's not physically possible for her hands to touch-type. She has to sort of hunt and poke at about 10wpm.)



In Field, someone asked me how it came to be that over some weekend, somehow the server copy of the sheet in question got totally wiped out. Not just the data, but instead of the sheet it was supposed to be, there was this pristine fresh-looking spreadsheet that had none of the formatting or anything.

I had to explain the concept of "some idiot opened up a new spreadsheet, then hit 'save as' without thinking, that idiot," and that this idiot was not necessarily the one who was last in that spreadsheet.

3:43 PM 3/9/2007
I took break, and gibbered to Turbo. Then I called Darkside. Darkside is the one who managed to get me not-gibbering. Darkside is a prince among men.

4:34 PM 3/9/2007
Got to explain the current problems with internet shortcuts vs. end-users to Turbo. Snarky Lady may have the experience and knowledge, but I speak computer far better.

At some point I might have the spoons to explain it properly, but the combination of an outdated desktop shortcut that cannot be deleted, that the computer-incompetent people are conditioned to use, and then the new link that's been passed around for the login link only works for the people with full privs; the people with partial (monitoring only, not infraction log) privs are refused. The way to get from the login link given is to insert "monitoring" at the end (or middle, depending) of the URL. ("Depending" is whether the URL given is http://foo.example.com/ or http://foo.example.com/login.asp ...) The people with partial privs are the ones who wouldn't recognize a URL if one came up to them and told them how to locate their rear with both hands. That's a bad combination. At least we are able to save new shortcuts to their desktops.

I mentioned that I was able to call Darkside. This makes me so much saner than I would have otherwise been...
azurelunatic: "Where's the goddamn NERF BAT when you *really* need it?" Animated cartoon tech support loses her cool.  (nerf bat)
Monday: Beltane. Stayed in, caused kittens to tremble in terror at the almighty bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and hung out on IRC. Blue, a long-lost Support volunteer who I didn't recognize, came in and talked about the glee associated with starting working out and getting quite fit indeed. I decided that why yes, I should run on down to the fitness center and hit the funky steppermachine for a bit.

Tuesday: Work. I came in to a disaster scene, and monitored a lot. Lots of people absent. Hit the funky steppermachine after work.

Wednesday: writers. I was disgruntled, profoundly so, after an interlude with the office wherein they were not grasping the idea that just because I *can* use the laundry room does not mean that it is not *profoundly inconvenient* to do so. It disarranges my lifestyle on a regular basis, in fact, and their proposal that I get up at eight the fuck o'clock in the morning before work is approximately like suggesting to someone with a normal schedule that they get up at 3 or 4 in the morning. No stairsteppermachine for me; did give plasma and do the writers thing. After that, I went Power Shopping, where there was more Power than Shopping, and the main point of the event was to get some groceries, some replacement underwear, and an hour of motion.

Thursday: Work again. Lo, there was commentary. Snarky Trainer (same lady, same snark, just no longer quite in her previous incarnations as Monitor or Supervisor) pulled me from my duties after the bulk of my monitoring was complete (after that point it would have been little bits of things that everyone can fill in for) and told me that we need a new training program for $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB, and that I got to draft the first edition of it, since I was running it, monitoring it, and on the phones for it from time to time.

I had discovered about ten poor monitor reports on Tuesday. Snarky Trainer felt better that she was not the only one who was coming back and feeling that she had to hand out poor reports. I mentioned that part of it was because I was coming back to monitoring more regularly after being away with other duties for so long, and I was taking a long hard look what with the n00bs and all and doing some serious self-calibration. She also mentioned that 'net access in the monitor rooms was about to disappear, thanks to some ... individual ... complaining that the PC was broken because it would not connect to some site that was dreadfully off-topic for work.

Wound up working out after work. Strangely addictive.

Friday, I ran $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB and OMG BUSY. Didn't get home until after the fitness center closed.

Today, I monitored in the morning, then wound up going and starting work on the new training presentation draft. Forgot to go on break for a while. Oh, and worked out too.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to get some more work on that in (enough that I'd feel proud handing it over to Snarky Lady to start debating over for revamping the training) as well as everything else, then hit the end of LepreCon.
azurelunatic: Cordless phone showing a heart.  (phone)
"My babysitter's running low. ...Late."

Strawberry blonde! Now made with real strawberries!


The guy who called up, called us fucking sons of bitches, et cetera, and then called us from a cellphone and whistled at us. Rev. Not-So-Nice Super eventually answered the phone on him. (He's infamous for answering the phone. We don't let him do it often.)

Someone insane called up wanting to know if we had an internet connection. Rev. Not-So-Nice Super said yes. The someone wanted to know how fast it was. Rev. Not-So-Nice-Super wasn't able to answer the question, and "put them on hold" ... complete with humming and bopping some "hold music" through his fist into the microphone. By the time he was about to "transfer" to Comic Pirate Super, who was going to take the call, the dude had hung up.


"My computer locked up!"
"What did you do to the computer this time?"
"IT'S THE COMPUTER'S FAULT! IT CAN'T EVEN SPELL!"

"What part of 'find a booth in Area 2' did you not understand?"
"I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO READ ALL THAT SPAM!!"
"Job-related paperwork being put on your desk is not spam."
"I DIDN'T ASK TO GET IT! IT'S SPAM!!!!"


(in short? Must. Control. Fist. Of. Death.)
Calling Darkside after work never looked like such a good option. A minute and a half with him at the end of lunch break. So good.
azurelunatic: Vivid pink Alaskan wild rose. (Default)
Am check-in all week. Exhaustion will be mine. There is more paperwork to do! Yay, paperwork. (Or not.) Figured out an hours problem this evening on instinct -- when there was nothing in the dialed hours exactly 35 hours, nor exactly 17.5 hours, I took a look at the formula for the hours, and found that it was my formula that was off, not the hours entered. Glad I found it when we did, or we'd still be there trying to figure out what was up...

I'm getting less blindly trusting of the system, especially when I know that there have been recent problems with the spreadsheets, and any time it's unprotected, problems creep in...

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