3pm. Semi-formal communication. Sometimes things get rough because others misbehave. And sometimes one doesn't get out of responsibility oneself. That's when being humble is a wise choice. (Ongoing challenges of fixing infrastructure not fully under ones own control.)
10pm, moving slowly. Feeling the treacherous power of tools able to suspend machines, tricking one into pondering the ability of suspending time itself. (It doesn't work.) Freezing once-scrolling columns of timestamps and text. Trying to pick meaning from lines, or the sequence of lines, or the sequences of blocks formed by lines. And in a moment of slowly growing tired, meeting oneself earlier or later, being stared at from the pale void behind the code doing whatever it deems appropriate at the moment.
8pm and on. Slowly wrapping up again. An unplanned dive back into the earlier day. Trying to make sense of unexpected findings, of results that shouldn't be there because the data shouldn't be, either. (Talking moving targets again, or maybe the arrow's just too slow for the game.)
9am and on. Todays common problem: Things that work out extremely well in theory fail in unique real-world scenarios. Leaning back, closing eyes for a few seconds, trying to focus on that odd future point at which this problem will be solved, and then trying to remember how the way in between Now and Then worked. Maybe a strategy at least not worse than any other. (Street's almost devoid of cars today, but with more people than usual strolling on the sidewalks, clothed in winter and an expectation of rain and snow. All below the immense silence of white skies.)
3pm and on. Testing test cases. Surprised to see how many of these fail, in recent iterations. The energy to be spent in telling wanted from unwanted changes in behaviour suggests re-thinking processes and definitions. Not to mention fragile infrastructure and technical side-effects. Complexity, again. And coffee. But at least, clouds shape to a structure, leaving the eyes something to hold on to in the vast wide field of white and grey that spans behind these windows.