To close out the suck that has been April, I got whacked with a WordPress problem just as I was all set to walk out of the office, close the door, and pretend that it had all been a bad dream. Too many freaking amateurs write kode for this flatporm because every damned time I turn around it’s the same damned thing, another plugin borking up the works.
As much as I detest PHP, the pseudo-programming language, I am starting to think that I might just as well learn all there is to know about writing WordPress plugins so I can just write custom stuff rather than continually fighting with the garbage those koder kiddies are taking other people’s hard earned money for. I’d take other people’s hard earned money, too, and more of it than the koder kiddies, but I’d sleep at night. As it stands, I’m sitting here drinking my first whiskey since January and jonesing like a mufker for a cigarette because I know which plugin is borking up the works but I haven’t fixed it. Sure, it’s rightfully the vendor’s problem, but the vendor is a koder kiddie who’s surely not inclined to put the appropriate effort into it and is so underwhelmingly skillful that he created the problem in the first place.
And that’s what sucks the most about being me: If there’s a problem in my world, no matter where it lands on the continuum from totally trivial to Earth shattering, I cannot sleep until it’s solved unless I’m utterly exhausted, and then only briefly and fitfully. The only alternative to running myself to ground, if I cannot solve the problem in short order, is to throw some kind of relaxant at my poor, tired, abused brain cells. I’m without cannabis, so I’m consuming the concentrated excreta of microorganisms instead and finding that I’m not nearly so fond of it as I was before marijuana became more or less legal here in the totally great state of Colorado.
That’s another thing that sucks about being me: Cops, lawyers, judges, and all other authority figures hate my greasy fucking guts even when my hair is cut short, my face is shaven clean, I’m dressed in a suit that’s ten or twenty bucks cheaper than theirs, and I am at my obsequious best. I’ve learned over the years to never park too far from the curb, or drive five miles per hour over the posted speed limit, or jaywalk, or let my vehicle registration lapse. Doesn’t matter. I still get rousted. So despite decriminalization of the evil weed in 1975 I avoided possessing it until this year because I’d be that guy who’d get the death penalty for an infraction. I might still become that guy up on federal charges for simple possession, but I figure I could get NORML and the ACLU behind me now so I don’t fret.
I know that sounds like paranoid bullshit. Trust me, I know that it does. But I also know of my own experience with cops, lawyers, judges, and other authority figures. When you’re rolling at 80 on a 75MPH interstate I’m that shithead going 78 who makes you twiddle your cruise control, and there’s a history behind my decision. Even when my car is less than five years old and my hair is cut short, despite my total lack of tattoos, bumper stickers, nonfunctional lighting, or overworn tires, I get pinched for things that never even happened.
So until I can make that 90 mile trip to the legal cannabis store, I’m sitting here consuming toxic ethanol just so I can sleep. That’s what sucks about being me. Hopefully May will be a better month. On the up side, that guy I recently wrote of is throwing some work my way to make sure I’m not just posing, and afterward (*if* he’s satisfied) we’ll add his half-rack of servers to my monthly billing list. OF COURSE he’ll be satisfied, but he doesn’t know that yet. But he will soon enough, and then I’ll be bagging his card every month for the administration of seven servers in a rack out in Tennessee that he’ll never have to think about again.
And that’s what doesn’t suck about being me. 🙂
Wouldja believe that Kim Carnes’ “Easy Money” isn’t you screwtube? Such a travesty.
Be well, friend and neighbors, and may none of your months be as my April has been!