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Midnight Pub

Raking the script leaves

~inquiry

It's kind of fun to analyze the output of bash's "history" command - alternatively, its $HOME/.bash_history file to ascertain what commands I use most.

It's a bit of a pain to weed out native linux commands from my scripts in that, but I'm thinking of using that analysis to move rarely or seemingly not at all used scripts in $HOME/bin elsewhere as a bit of clutter reduction. Turns out I'm really good at becoming obsessed with a script idea, implementing it, using it a couple days, and then utterly forgetting about it. I kind of want those to be elsewhere than where the useful scripts reside.

The elsewhere place can remain as coding examples.

And, of course, whenever script obsession returns, I can start in that elsewhere directory to see if I've already implemented such.

(Assuming I remember such a directory exists.... <coughs>)

Cleanliness is smol-liness!

(Maybe? It sounded cute....)

======================
|      her love      |
|   is like a fire   |
|   burning inside   |
|                    |
|      her love      |
| is so much higher  |
| it can't be denied |
|                    |
| - The Moody Blues  |
======================

Crazed dreams last night.

I was in a building I seem to visit a lot in dreams. Too hard to describe its form, but it's an odd one.

This time I was going to interview with a place I worked before. But when I got there, I couldn't feel sure of the appointment time, so I just kind of hung around until the vice president that conducted interviews seemed available.

While waiting, my former manager appeared, and was physically a shell of his former physical self: thin, scraggly. He proceeded to show me how the place had gone to hell in my absence. He didn't seem to know I was interviewing.

Finally, the interviewer was available, was fine with my not remembering the appointment time correctly, but then went on to speak in what seemed to be "tongues" to me, which was basically a really heavy Asiatic accent. I mostly kept agreeing to not sound as though I had no idea what he was saying, and he never seemed to notice that I didn't.

I left. But then returned what I think was a few days later with a friend who looked like "Deacon" from "The King of Queens". Well, returned to the *building*, because I was convinced there was restaurant there the friend would really like.

But we never quite made it for being intercepted by a woman who looked a lot like Patti LaBelle, who went on endlessly about things I don't remember.

I awoke rather confused, which seemed a bit unusual. I had just one beer and two small glasses of wine the night before. No THC.

Oh well....

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