mkc's Journal: Nothing in particular

Yet another night facing the computer, and I'm writing nothing. Some people have nothing to say. Reminds me of Granddad sitting there across the table from Grandmother. They used to tell us stories about what they went out and ate some night after WWII. They told us this in a dry house, dry meat, dry vegetables. Sometimes even the water in their condo felt dry.

Today was another attempt to fix the stupid little parser to read what she generated. After she'd actually generated some partially garbaged output, I still tried to write a parser to wade through it. By the end of that effort, it was becoming clear even to me they could get me to sweep out the toilets with my toothbrush if they could somehow make me think of her while I do it. Infatuation can make you stupid(er).

At this point the right thing to do seems to consist in waiting. This too shall pass. The feelings must eventually just go away, since they cannot be acted upon.

Perhaps people who feel extraverted somehow bring it out. Would they ever get into such a silly situation as to sublimate their desires into lex and yacc? Maybe I never left high school.