Fear the Crab

I seem to have broken my spec codes on CheesyMUD. Everytime I think I fix it, the same problem occurs. What happens? Well, first let me say that the code is supposed to prevent access into an area unless that person carries a ticket. If they don’t have a ticket, the code is supposed to tell them they can’t pass without one. Unfortunately, when I finished the code, anytime I tried a command I would be told I needed a ticket. In a nutshell, I had “frozen” myself and “locked” all my normal game commands (including the commands to try and fix the code). I’d hate to think what I would have done if there was no other immortal who could have helped me. I’d be stuck forever!

Work was actually busy today. There were lots of customers all wanting to buy things. After we closed the registers, I noticed a good-sized stack of traveler’s cheques and whole heap of long greens. That’s something the store hasn’t seen in a long time. Still, I’m very glad I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.

I found out today that I register for the fall semester on Aug 20, Tuesday at 1330. That’s the last day of registration. As of last week, there were only a few seats available. The pessimistic side of me is saying that now I won’t get a seat in the classes I want, and I’m going to have to spend the first week of school sitting in on classes and hoping someone will drop. The optimistic side of me is saying that the classes I want have certain prerequisites that need to be fulfilled, so my chances of getting a seat only depends on who else is pursuing the same field of computer science. I’ve already got the requirements needed to take the class, so if everyone who’s taking it with me already registered, odds are those open seats will remain open. I’ll just have to keep checking the class status every day to see any changes.

I think this will be a very stressful week for me.

This dream seemed to be a mix of images all blended together. It first started with me spending time in jail, and I was on a work crew. Except I had a pair of needle-nosed pliers. I had to sit in the bed of a pickup truck with a bunch of hardened cons. Then the dream switched to that of a man running down the street eating a package of uncooked spaghetti, or linguine.

There was an image of me playing a solitaire game with actual cards, and a scene of me standing.. somewhere.. to do.. something.

None of it made any sense, and already I find it hard to remember details.