The review went well.
I got kudos from the testing group. They said it was the best spec they've seen in a very long time. It made it very clear what the testing impact was going to be on them, and they had everything they needed to get the testing done. A new girl in Ireland is handling most of the testing and she went over the PFS with her boss, who is actually an old hand at testing Project Navigator from two years ago, when we didn't have detailed specifications as to exactly what we were going to do. So they're very, very much happier with what we're now doing.
I'm glad of that.
Docs was happy. Marketing was happy with all the parts that I'd writing. Other sections that my boss and a couple of the guys had written all got a few comments or questions and I'll probably be adding clarification when we're done. But it went well, and we finished the thing in the two hours we had. This in contrast to the engine review, which went four hours and they still weren't really finished with it. My.
So I should have been happy.
But I guess I'm just in post-project let down. I still have a ton of stuff to do with all this, and, oddly enough, I don't feel *good* about having finished all this. It's huge, but there's so much more...
I guess there's always more.
I did the usual things kind of from habit. I went back upstairs after lunch.
Jet actually ate a huge amount of Ramen with Isabel and George. They'd co-opted one of my teacups for his noodle bowl and it's the perfect size for him to get both hands around when he wants to lift the bowl and drink the soup. So he really loves it. He ate probably half a package of ramen just by himself. He loves doing it for them, too, as they make a great deal of him eating well. Which is a pretty cool thing, all in all.
I worked during the afternoon in a kind of post-partum letdown. John got home around 5 and told me that I'd gotten a box!
A Box! A Box! It was my Imperial Tea Court shipment, with three teas and a tea pitcher that's more for pouring off tea from a Yixing pot before serving everyone with it. But I wanted it for a tea pot. It's exactly ten ounces, which is smaller than my ceramic tea pots, bigger than the Yixings, nearly exactly the size of a good mug, and since it's made of glass, I can make any type of tea in it that I want. I wanted to make tea in something where I could just let the leaves go completely and only filter as I was pouring instead of confining the leaves to a basket.
I don't really know how much of a difference that will make to the taste of the tea, but it's something that is fun to watch. So I did. I washed the glass pitcher and put tea into it and let it brew. It was fun to watch the leaves actually unfurl and the color of the water slowly change. I was doing a white tea, so the color didn't change that much, and without a lid, I could experience the perfume of it as it steeped. I know, it loses heat pretty well, but since I wasn't interested in keeping the tea in there warm for any amount of time past the steep, it wasn't that much of an issue with me.
It was good tea.
I enjoyed that and tried to make it into my own little celebration of the things I've done. It's really hard, though.
I hate, in many way, how I was raised or how I think, now, that anything that I do and is done and someone likes doesn't really mean all that much. Things that are done and done well just leave me empty. There's nothing I need to pay attention to anymore. It's done and if it's good it's dead. It's not worth anything anymore. They don't fill me up with anything. The only thing that really fills me is dread about all the things that aren't done, yet.
I wish I could feel really good about the things I've done well.
Sometimes I felt that way about programming. I don't feel that way, right now, about the spec I'm writing, for all that it's driving so many other things. There are too many people who can just upend it and make it meaningless by telling me that something is wrong. And, well, that something *is* wrong. My job is to simply make it right, again, not angst about the wrongs of something I wrote when I didn't know anything. But I do, anyway. Just because something I wrote is wrong causes me anxiety instead of my professed happiness at being able to make it right for everyone to read.
I think that just by saying it enough times, it may get to be true. There are times when I honestly believe that just making it better is a good thing. I just wish that there was a better connection to my heart and soul from my brain.
John gave me many hugs and Jet ran over and hugged me repeatedly.
What didn't help was the fact that I'm nervous about my dentist appointment tomorrow. I really hope that something good will come of it. There's so much of me that also doesn't want to get too hopeful about it all. It's so odd, so conflicted, too.
Maybe I'm just depressed as it feels so much like winter today. Yesterday it snowed, and today the day is grey and cold and snow covered. We're not going out at all today. Isabel was a sweetie and made good dinner for us and we putzed around the house and played with Jet for the afternoon's entertainment. It was peaceful, but I feel all stir-crazy, somehow. Like there's more I should be doing or something.
I just hope I get over it.
I decided to make yogurt tonight, just to make something. I brought the food dryer up that George had made me, and we set it up ad started it getting warm as Jet as nursing. Yes. It was a late start, but I didn't really know what else to do. When Jet went to sleep, I fiddled with the control to try and get it around 115 degrees, as Alton Brown had said. It took a while, but then I also had to heat up the milk in order to make a nice home for the bacteria.
I overheated it. Way overshot the target temp of 120 degrees. So I had to wait for it to cool off enough, and I was able to do some stabilization of the warm box while that was happening. Finally, when it got back down, I poured it into the container, stirred the last half a cup with the yogurt that was the starter and then stirred it all into the container of warm milk. I put it carefully into the box, put the lid on it and then sat around, writing, taking care of Jet when he woke up, doing things, and watching TV for the next while and kept checking the temperature on the box.
It stayed at a steady 115. Warm. Yay!
We'll see what we get in the morning.