Finally, I Get to Type Something That's Not Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V, or a Unix Command

Thanks to a new more powerful server, I'm able to put more things on this page that scream Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!. A generation of livejournalers and myspacers rejoice. Everyone else gets nauseated.
Sitting at a computer for fourteen hours a day of late has caused me to have scores of geeky nightmares, like the horror of command line errors in Unix, or a senario where Indiana Jones style spikey walls are coming at me from both sides while I try to restore a couple thousand backend applications in the space of five minutes. This is either a sign that I don't have any real problems to have nightmares about, or an indicator of serious, disturbing amounts of anxiety. I don't know that dreaming about error messages is supposed to make a person wake up in a cold sweat.
I turned 23 this week. I celebrated in style with a very large posse at Barcode. I don't remember the last couple hours of the evening very well. I'm told that is what is supposed to happen on your birthday.
I want summer. Badly. I want t-shirts, flip-flops, hot steamy days and cool balmy evenings. This winter, these past several months, have been some of the longest of my life.
And now to bed. To bed I said.

Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 10.0 [Focus.]