Tuesday, April 1

 
 
YEAR:  2014 | Tags:  | | |
 
 
 
 
 

Fourth Floor, Arcada, 20:20

 
 

I was less tired when I woke up this morning than I was yesterday, although I had still not had what doctors would call a full night’s sleep. Naa was once again deep asleep when I woke her.

Yesterday I had cancelled today’s teaching because the Omtänk website is proceeding slower than we had hoped, and the deadline is fixed for tomorrow afternoon. Jutta worked on it from home and I worked on it at Arcada, and that was the day. Or almost.

Approximately four hours of the day was spent on the help chatline at HostMonster in an increasingly desperate effort to get the ftp access sorted out. Twice the software used for the chatline threw me out and I had to log in again, wait five to ten minutes, and then deal with someone new. Finally I got the issue escalated twice with every level agreeing that the problem was certainly not at our end, and that there seemed to be some issue on the server.

AT 19:00 I phoned Irma to chat because, by that point, my irritation and anxiety levels were well inside the red zone. Unfortunately our worlds crossed wires and Irma, preoccupied with Auo’s death, felt that the language I was using was completely inappropriate for something so utterly trivial in comparison. I agreed and accepted that today had been mildly irritating at most by the standards of what we have both experienced as a living hell.

Is language absolute or relative? People say “ouch, that really hurt” when they bang their head on something, even though they might well know from personal experience that really hurting might more accurately be used to describe breaking a limb badly. Language is liquid and can flow in directions that surprise us, it tricklrs down onto the cracks of whatever emotional topology is at hand.

I am thinking this while walking down the corridor at Arcada in search of tea. I cannot look at a screen or concentrate any more just now, so I am taking a break. I look out of the window at the recent developments that I can remember being built, while we still lived in Hermanni.

Later I will make a few small advances with the website, read a chapter of a book on arts research, and leave for home. If the cat makes a single move tonight, I will spend my lunch time tomorrow searching for cat sedatives.