(a) In the last hour of what was supposed to be a sleep-in morning, two hundred emails arrive in three minutes from the very upset database at the Young Wizards discussion forums complaining that its maximum number of connections has been exceeded. Repeatedly. Moan loudly, drag self out of lovely warm bed, go downstairs, wake up big computer, go online, discover (after a few moments’ worth of examining system logs) that some effing hacker in Russia is attempting to scrape the entire Forum site. Edit .htaccess, deny his* butt, stagger out to kitchen for tea. Am unwilling to ban all of Russia, the books have Russian editions after all, but until I get some caffeine down me it’s going to seem like a good idea. Come right over here, Vladimir, and let me use the banhammer on you. Just give me an excuse. Just one.
(b) While microwaving tea, discover that laundry done yesterday has been stuffed into laundry basket and left overnight, thus becoming uselessly wrinkled pile of half-dry clothes. Growl at (sleeping) person responsible. Restart laundry.
(d) Go back in, stoke fire, and discover that somehow or other my tea has gone cold. Who left entropy running again?
…Feh. Want to start Saturday over but am now too awake for there to be any point. Bugger…
Yeah, the glamorous life of a writer, let’s hear more about that. (mutter)
*or his bot’s [ETA: re pronoun gendering here: Doubtless there are Russian hackers who are women running unscrupulous scraper bots, but I find that image strangely dispiriting. If I prefer to imagine the person responsible as more like the egotistical pen-clicking douchebag hacker in Goldeneye, well, there it is.)