Well, that was fun. And good morning to you, too.

I got woken up by another after-hours call. It wasn't so bad - came in a bit before 8, and I'd already stirred once and just decided I didn't want to get up yet. The client deliberately waited to call until later on, because while it was important, it wasn't super-critical.

The issue with no evidence yesterday, except he got my message after removing the evidence from it happening again. Which I'd half-expected. That's okay, I'll get the next one. But in addition, he had two people who couldn't log on, and thought there was some sort of data corruption going on.

I tried to log on as them, read the error messages, and realized the poor guy had never been trained about operator lockouts (you know, try your password too many times, it locks you out) because he was trained prior to that being added to the system. (The site had hardware problems which resulted in a longer delay from training to live.) Oops.

So I showed him the commands (which are really simple) for checking and then clearing lockouts, and all was good. Also mentioned the value of the lockout metric (number of failed logins before we lock it); he asked me to change it, so that will be in their next build.

As after-hours calls go, that one was nice and easy to resolve, at least.

Happy things are not always food. But sometimes they are.

I have decent-looking fruit in the fridge, including but not limited to the plums and grapes my mom brought over (but, being fresh-picked locally, they're the top of the list, definitely *g*). I have radishes. I have cheese. I have frozen dinners (yes, I know, but I like them).

And I have a lot of vanilla Coke, since it was 99 cents for a 2-liter bottle....

Speaking of food, I didn't say - after my last trip, I had another one of those Scott Knows Me moments. He was picking me up at the airport, and I was grumpy and disoriented and tired and, well, me after a long plane flight. I snapped at him a couple times. Got out to the car, slouched into my seat (after putting luggage in the trunk), and muttered an apology. "I'm just really tired. And I want a cold vanilla Coke."

He pointed at the space next to me on the seat. I looked. One can of vanilla Coke (not icy, but as cold as it could be given how long it had to sit in the car), and a Subway sandwich - Italian (one of my treat faves, and I'm almost always hungry after a flight, though this time life conspired that I wasn't).

And a root beer from Subway that he got in large in case I'd wanted something non-caffeinated.

Being a known quantity can be nice.

At any rate, there are other good things today than food. I was just eating some of it, so my mind tended that way. I have neat people to hang out with; no after-hours calls since the one that made me get out of bed instead of lazing about. I've got the cloths I wanted to get for cleaning, and some more hardwood floor stuff. My deck is looking like it's doing nicely with all the work my parents put in on it, and I even have new socks. (Yesterday's pair offended me by turning out to have holes in the heels, as well as the toes. I'm used to holes in the toes; I don't cut my toenails as often as I ought. But the heels? Been keeping them too long, then. Geesh.)

I have things to read, things to write, things to do, and none of them have to be done - at least not right this moment. I'm debating changing my lj style, just because it amuses me.

But I think I want more vanilla Coke first.