I’ve been trying out a few new ISPs for my web hosting needs. I desperately want to get myself a VPS (or Virtual Private Server) because it will allow me to do all kinds of things I can’t do at the moment. The credit card’s the limit.
It’s a really geeky task, but I’ve spent the last couple of days getting myself acquainted with real system administration. Over the next few days I’m going to migrate my sites across and see whether the package I’ve chosen can handle the load.
Vicious office rumours spread quickly, and sure enough on the Tuesday morning as I limped with fragility into the office after a 2k trudge to work from the railway station in a collar and morning sun, I was greeted with a comedy name placard on my cubicle.
“Crash Kyd.”
It was all in good lol I’m sure, and I’m happy to feign toughness for the cause, but how embarrassing being the butt of an office joke on day three. Gosh.
The rest of the week’s been pretty cruisy in retrospect. I’ve been trained up in two departments, and my job title includes another one which I’ve also been wrapping my head around. Business Incorporated™ is unfortunately your typical large company in a transitional state between un-IT and standard policy and whatnot. At current there’s about a blousand systems all running different uninteroperable software, and it’s going to be a number of years until everything is standardised. There’s very little documentation for any of the existing systems, so I’ve taken it upon myself to document everything as I go which has made the process slower but steadier.
It’s quite overwhelming, but I’m confident with what I’ve learned so far. The only problem is that my workstation is using XP which is an obscenity, but the only real practical thing I can run without immeasurable stuffing around. It really makes me appreciate how far the Linux desktop has come, and it’s frustrating almost beyond words how difficult it is to do anything without decent tools.
Now the rain has abated I’ve started riding to work again. I figure there’s no point using public transport because it’s slow, obscenely expensive, and prone to simply not showing up. I’ve worked out that I can time my trips so that it only takes an hour, but when I can zip home on the bike in half that time with a favourable wind I don’t see why I’d bother.
Tomorrow is going to be a special logistical challenge and I just realised everything may be completely stuffed up due to my dismal financial state. I ought to go and work out what I’m going to do about that.
My head was buzzing with exhaustion and adrenaline. I lay there for what seemed like an age, and I would have preferred to stay down. I was defeated and angry and the abrasive combination of tears, sweat, and concrete dust tore at my eyes. My left leg throbbed ominously, and I didn’t dare look.
It had been a fine enough afternoon until I left work. As always Kingsford Smith Drive was packed full of toxic vehicles belching fumes and stirring up dust, and the only safe route home was through the mud and grass; over ancient tree roots and broken concrete. Constantly up and down square gutters not designed for humans, let alone bikes.
The wind was behind me all the way down the main road. It was comically strong; the trees were bent double, gentlemen lost their hats, and the womenfolk fought to keep their dresses below the knee. I had the inkling it was going to be a hard slog home, but I couldn’t believe how strong the wind was when I finally changed directions. It was like trying to climb backward up a water slide; no sooner had I picked up speed I was pushed back down again. It was frighteningly loud, and frustrating almost to the point of despair.
I stopped to catch my breath at Toombul. After fighting to get down a hill. The wind stopped briefly, so I set off again, but it was a struggle to get anywhere.
After going under the rail bridge to the airport, I headed downhill onto a dangerously narrow bridge across Kedron Brook. I could only manage about twenty kilometres per hour, so I stupidly stuck to the edge of the road to let the other vehicles past. It was probably the worst thing I could do in the area, because it was out in the open, directly exposed to the ocean wind, and going so slowly it was difficult to keep my balance.
A hust of wind took my wheels and I hit the edge of the road. That was really the end of it; I picked up a wobble and decided it would probably be better for my continued survival if I fell over the railing on the side of the road. So I fell over the railing on the side of the road.
I finally got up and inspected the damage. The brakes were wrapped around the metal barrier, and my shin had three nasty red gashes. My thigh was all purple and bruised, but remarkably nothing but skin was broken. Even the bike was fine, although I think I may have busted the gears somehow as the chain seems to be scraping on something.
I’m particularly angry that while there’s a perfectly good footway across the bridge in question (albeit covered in cracked and warped bitumen), it has bollards at either end and a vehicle barrier so you can’t get back onto the road. If I wanted to cycle (or even walk) across it I’d end up in an overgrown grass ditch with nowhere to go.
The conclusion I draw from this is that Brisbane isn’t really made for cyclists. It’s getting there very slowly, but some areas are so hostile it’s incredible. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’ve certainly lost some of my confidence to cycle to work — especially if I’m going to sook about a bit of wind — but there’s really no alternative I can think of. Public transport is completely out of the question, because I’ve better things to do than spend twelve hours a day between work and transit.
Pout.
Oh, hello, I forgot you were here. I suppose I’d best let you know what’s going on.
The job’s great. I was expecting something completely different, and I was pleasantly surprised by how different to what I was expecting it to be it was. It’s an interesting position, and I’m anticipating befrazzlement by the end of the week, but we’ll see how it goes.
I cycled in on Friday and despite the shitcrazy un-human streets of Eagle Farm, I managed to get in there in about half an hour; my optimal projection. Getting home was trickier because the wind is unfavourable, so it took significantly longer and I ended up putting too much strain on my leg. I’m not sure if I’ve written here about the condition I think I have, but I’ve been stretching it all weekend and it’s still a bit rubbish so I’ll see how it goes.
I’m not catching public transport, that’s for sure. It takes an hour longer than it does to cycle, so even if I have to take it easy for a bit, I’m not waiting around for connecting services that don’t come.
I helped Jeremy move into his new digs on Saturday. It’s a really awesome place and I’m as jealous as a smealous, so I stuck around all day and ordered a chicken korma for dinner while we watched re-runs of Not Going Out.
On Sunday I slept in to try and shrug off the non-progressive beginnings of what I think will be an uneventful common almost-cold. I’ve had mild symptoms since Thursdaytime and it’s failed to do much more than make me sniffly so I expect it’s another asthma-inspired hypochondria. After I got up at about eleven, I went and visited Mystery Guest where we had lunch and sat on his patio until well into the afternoon.
I woke up five minutes before my alarm this morning, which was a pleasant surprise. I still forgot to turn it off, so the grating screech of the wake-up call went off shortly after I got up filling me with adrenaline and anger anyway.
The day started like any other, except that I did different things than I usually do. This is the way I like things. I got an email at around ten to organise a meeting so after getting upset with the terrible state of the conservative arse-backward Queensland government and friends, I bought a loaf of bread and got my parents to drop me off at Eagle Farm.
I signed the relevant paperwork and was finished before I even knew it. It was a bit disappointing really, because I got all dressed up and even though I had somewhere to go, it was a bit anticlimatic.
My new workplace is pretty sweet. The main thing that I’m especially happy about is the inclusion of showers, so I’ll be able to ride to work without having to worry about being stinky. This pleases me beyond words, and I reflected on this while I got changed into more appropriate cycling clothes.
I snuck out the back door of the office building and unchained my bicycle from the fence where I’d left it earlier, and rode the entire way home without stopping. It’s a reasonable trip once you get off Kingsford Smith Drive, and I managed to do it in about thirty-five minutes, which is nice to know for future reference.
Simon Pascal Klein
Tate Johnson