On-call, the bane of my existence
Thursday, November 20th, 2008I’m on-call at the moment, which means that I get paged any time a customer has a problem with one of their computers, or any time a monitoring program thinks one of those computers might have a problem. The monitoring program has obsessive-compulsive disorder, and it likes to send a lot of pages at night for things that I really can’t do anything about, other than to wake up and curse my pager and then toss and turn for an hour until I finally pass out again so that I’m ready for the next page. I have been on-call in some fashion for several weeks now, and life has lost all meaning. Here is a Haiku I wrote:
Colors fade to gray
There is no joy, no beauty
On-call yet again
Here is another Haiku I wrote:
Nostrils fill with stench
Last night’s meal was a mistake
Now I fart onions
It does not really have anything to do with on-call, but I like it.