The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005


Over the past few days there's been this almost near constant whirring noise in the office. It sounds like it's just on the other side of my cubicle with that neat Zen-like emptiness to it (and yes, it still has that neat Zen-like emptiness to it, dispite sharing it with a new tech support person).

Whirr. Whirr.

Finally, curiousity got the better of me, and I decided to track down the source of the whirring.

Whirr. Whirr.

The person on the other side of my cubicle with that neat Zen-like emptiness to it has what looks like a very short cattle prod but is instead a massage unit that is currently in use.

Whirr. Whirr.


Whirr. Whirr.

Back to work.

Whirr. Whirr.

At least it has a beat you can dance to.

Oh, it stopped.

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