February 2023

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728    

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

May 29th, 2005

cjsmith: (caduceus)
Sunday, May 29th, 2005 10:42 am
Wrapping a bunch of sports tape around my foot at the instep turns out to be a little more complicated than I thought. My first attempt doesn't improve anything and causes weird stabs of pain at various spots in the plantar arch when I'm wearing shoes.

How could this be difficult??

Yesterday was Errand Day (2 items at grocery store, 1 item at drugstore, pick up 1 pair shoes). That's my limit on walking in the span of two days, so I'm not doing squat today unless I figure this out.

(Some day I'd like to see one of those smug "I'm so self-sufficient and strong and unbeatable look at MEEEEE" types deal with an uncurable health issue. They never fail no matter what, so naturally they'd quickly find a cure, and I could then copy it.)

OK, left foot (redone) is acting a little better now. Still don't know how this could be hard.
cjsmith: (Default)
Sunday, May 29th, 2005 07:40 pm
I am so loving this work-from-home thing. I hadn't set it up for over a year as I live only four miles from the office. I'm lazy, but I'm not THAT lazy. However, a few weeks ago I had some sort of fever thing, and custom dictated I decline to exercise my coworkers' immune systems, so I got set up. Boy do I love it.

I just now connected up for maybe a half hour - forty minutes TOPS - and I accomplished something I'd been trying to do for days. I got that @#$!ing @$$ piece of $#!^ -- ahem, I mean the excellent Ethernet physical-interface chip I work with, it's just stubborn, yeah -- to autonegotiate. If you don't do Ethernet work, feel free to ignore this, and if you do, you can go ahead and Marvell that it took this long to get the dang thing to do it. Should be pretty basic, right? Heh.

Well, it's working now.

That's a relief, because I was starting to think that when my boss returns from his trip Tuesday morning I was going to have to fall on my pocketknife to atone for the utter dishonor of having failed at this task. Phew. Glad I don't have to do that. Pocketknife's a slow death.