So yesterday i got up rather late ~ like 3pm. That isn’t really unusual. I usually get up quite late on saturdays. I was thinking that i have maybe not “wasted” a saturday to sleep 50 times in the last 5 years. I enjoy it. i feel that it is some of the only time i have JUST to myself. sleep. hah. and i am always in a constant state of sleep dep - that it is helpful. Anyway… I slept late yesterday and decided to read a bit in my book. I was reading the last book of the Hyperion series by Dan Simmons. I hadn’t read much of it and so i really wanted to get a chunk of it done. I was on like page 80 or something. So i finished it. hah. i didn’t mean to. i just suddenly noticed that i was on page 550 of 700. It was a fine ending. I was happy with the series. So anyway. my plan of getting down to some work was blown by nutso scifi. w00t. The best was after i finished the book at 1am, i did a bit of computer work - then went to bed. And read myself to sleep with my new Vernor Vinge book. hah. I rule. Although i shouldn’t be reading the Vinge book yet. i should be finishing that lame book “Gridlinked” and moving on to my Assissins Apprentice books that matiss got me into. they rule. like zombie fantasy. and i hate both zombies and fantasy. hah. umm. yea.
So now I need to scramble to finish some work. so i can go back to reading.
Hi. My name is Harper. I am an engineer and software architect involved in social networks and the open source software. I am very happily employed as the CTO to the awesome skinnyCorp in Chicago, IL. We make some really cool stuff. This is obviously my blog. I write about everything from being a professional yoyoer to hacking the newest Internet appliance. Be sure and check out my homepage at harperreed.org. If you are so interested, my resume is located here. I love getting emails and what not so feel free to contact me through here.
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One Response
Cedric
January 31st, 2006 at 1:16 pm
1Whoa, responses are opened?
That Hyperion series made me horny for English Romantic poetry. I stumbled across John Keats’s grave in Rome nearly by accident. The girl who was showing me the graveyard had no idea until I stood there pissing my pants and trying, desperately, to make her understand. Really understand.
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