Woe is me. RiverMOO's database crashed last night. Six days of work were lost. I could cry. I know it's not a cure for cancer, but I put hours into sorting out more than 100 rooms, with connections, verbs, exit messages, and a bunch of description changes, and it's just gone. I have backup files of the descriptions, but that's not the hardest part to replace, anyway. So I'm kind of depressed at the moment. Give me 24 hours, I'll be better.
I seem to spend hours online now that I have unlimited access. I'm pretty sure my butt is becoming chair-shaped, and I keep forgetting to stretch out with the result that I'm getting a sore back at the end of each day. It's great for getting all my projects done, this nonstop web access, but it's beginning to seem a bit obsessive. I worry about the stupidest things, don't I? Well, if I were getting paid, this amount of work wouldn't seem so wrong. I'm a perfectionist. I notice imperfections, I can't help it. My eye is excellent, and so is my ear; therefore, I see those improperly done .gifs and I hear those slightly off notes, and they get on my nerves.
Sometimes I wonder if I was born this way. I mean born a nitpicker. I don't think so, but I guess I don't really have any way to know. By the time I was self-aware enough to notice, I'd already begun overcompensating for perceived imperfections. The old "it doesn't hurt as much if I point out my failings first" syndrome. I am absolutely convinced that I'm lazy, despite zero evidence of this, because I know deep down inside me that I don't care. I don't care about being nice to stupid people, I don't care about horrendously dull job assignments, and I don't care if my face freezes in this position. Just leave me alone and don't make me do boring things.
Yeah, right. The world doesn't care. Therefore, I have developed an iron will and a rigid self-discipline which enables me to smile at the people, do the boring tasks, and force myself to be a top notch performer. It's kind of okay to smile at everyone instead of being a grouch, I admit. And being good at whatever I do has a pleasant payoff in the form of raises and responsibility, which I love. But I still hate being bored more than anything, ugh! Which is where having a computer comes in. I can spend as much time as I want on stuff that fascinates me, like graphic design and MOO programming and writing HTML. Being picky is a good thing for all those purposes. Perhaps I just spent too many years being picky about the wrong things. Perhaps being a nitpicker is rather more than a survival skill. That makes me feel kind of happy.
May all your HTML tags be closed.