Roll over sleep.
Pick up. “Um, hello?”
“Greetings and salutations,” my answering machine said. “This is area
code … ” Grumble. Roll out of bed. Cross condo. Shut off answering
machine and pick up phone.
Listen to answering machine. Mark going on about an exploit
in bind 8.2.2-p5. Know about that. Knew about that for several
months from a cow-orker at work who couldn't locate the exploit.
“Hey Sean!” It's John, the paper millionaire of a dot com and he's
entirely too chipper this early in the … afternoon. “Are you awake?”
“But it's four o'clock! What time did you get to bed?”
“Uh … ” My brain hurts. “Eight this morning?”
“You're still sleeping, aren't you? Well, give me a call later on. I know
what I want to do for my next big project.” He then hung up.
I hate waking up to the phone.
You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go
ahead, I won't bite. I promise.
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