The Lair

And the lack of sleep isn’t helping. Delaying much needed sleep with artificial stimulants is a bad idea. Sooner or later you just need to crash; and waking up is unpleasant, to say the least. I know by now that if I stay awake this long with this little sleep, a crash is going to be followed by waking up feeling hungover. Without the alcohol. Gah. I had a hair trigger temper this morning too. Hate being this sleepy and not being able to sleep. Maybe my sis got it right. She observed that I’d not even blink or look sleepy after a night out earlier, but this time (when I was in SL), I was the proverbial old man and in bed by err.. 2200 or something. Obscenely early, anyway. Well, of course I’m getting old, dammit. Or lazier, anyway. At least the report (and the stuff that had to happen after the report) got done, ahead of schedule.

I’ve sold out. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep affecting my judgement; but at some point I decided that obscurity is pretty good security. Considering the number of people hitting the proxy servers in search of a cheap spam relay; I’ve decided (pretty arbitrarily, at that) that we’re going to change all the default proxy ports. Like, it’s not going to stop a determined spammer type but at least the dumber ones will no longer soak up bandwidth and server CPU cycles.

Done my bit for the environment, I have.

Found me a mess of Fatboy Slim and my old Scissor Sisters album. I’m humming along to Laura and feeling not a whit ashamed. It must be something in the coffee. Or lack of sleep, whatever.

Got Chickenbutt to do some downloading for me and grabbed a few Pinky and the Brain episodes. Whee. Regular Bonnie and Clyde, that’s us. Also succeeded (I think) in introducing Chickie to the wonder that is Pinky and the Brain in the process (well, if she’s downloading it she has to watch it too, right?). Narf. Zort.

Now to take over the world. Right after I grab about 12 hours of sleep.