So four days now. My dad will my flying into Atlanta, we'll get the UHaul and spend the night here. In the morning we'll pack it up and drive thirteen hours and I'll be back in Pennsylvania.

I don't have anything deep to say about this. It's a decision I've made for entirely practical reasons. I don't want to move, but the factors of every day life, of bills and jobs, currency, aren't giving me a lot of choice.

So yeah, four more days.

I've been hacking a bit, trying to keep my mind off it. Reading Cryptonomicon. Sleeping a lot. Sometimes I even forget it's coming, and then it slams back in, and yeah, I really don't want to. But s'life.

Or some bullshit.

Anyway, later today (hopefully) I'm going to go shove this 120G drive into hastur. Replacing server hdds is a huge pain in the ass in the best of circumstances, and these are not, generally speaking, optimum. The drive already has an OS on it (Debian), so all I really have to do -- in theory -- is copy the relevent data from the old drive to the new drive. This involves very little in the way of actual work. Once the data has been copied over, the drives need to be switched around, the machine brought back up with the new drive primary, and then something will explode.

Something always explodes. It doesn't matter how simple the procedure actually is; something will break. It could be something small, could be something big. Maybe the MySQL databases will have fits about being re-propogated. Maybe I fucked up somewhere on the install (unlikely, I can literally install Debian with my eyes closed these days -- in fact, I slept through the majority of the install yesterday afternoon).

Andy insisted he could just swap the drives out sometime, but I don't think he understands that things like this are, by their very nature, the antithesis of painless.

It's always fucking something. But hey, when it's all over and done with, hastur will have 120 gigs of love. That's more love than I've seen in an elm's age.

And then, after the fires are put out and the daemons are all marching to my tune, I'll come home and hack some more.

Laura came over yesterday (Yesterday? I suppose it must have been two days ago. It gets hard to tell, when the only thing that deliminates the weekdays from weekends is that Andy is here during the afternoon). She woke me up (I'd been up all night, not thinking about being back in Philly) and I'd actually expected her to the be hard drive for hastur. It was good seeing her, even if she isn't 120 gigs of pure storage goodness. The conversation was something like "Woah. Hey." "Hi. I was in Mississippi all weekened. And then New Orleans. I haven't even been home yet. Look, I got a tattoo, then I got attacked by a jellyfish. kbye."

There was some bit where she turned on the halogen deathlight and I made desperate wavy motions for her to turn it back off. But I may have been imagining that bit; awake wasn't even a word I could have been aware of. Anyway, that's my story.

I think I want to get drunk tonight.

Fall-down, pissing on yourself drunk.

This sounds like a plan.