Ring.
Ring.
Silence.
Roll over sleep.
Ring.
Ring.
Pick up. “Um, hello?”
“Greetings and salutations,” my answering machine said. “This is area code … ” Grumble. Roll out of bed. Cross condo. Shut off answering machine and pick up phone.
“Hello?”
Dead silence.
Grumble.
Listen to answering machine. Mark [1] going on about an exploit in bind 8.2.2-p5. Know about that. Knew about that for several months from a cow-orker at work who couldn't locate the exploit.
Ring.
Blink.
Ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey Sean!” It's John, the paper millionaire of a dot com and he's entirely too chipper this early in the … afternoon. “Are you awake?”
“No.”
“But it's four o'clock! What time did you get to bed?”
“Uh … ” My brain hurts. “Eight this morning?”
“You're still sleeping, aren't you? Well, give me a call later on. I know what I want to do for my next big project.” He then hung up.
Grumble.
I hate waking up to the phone.