get out of my brain

I had four days of software applications trainings at work last week. I, perhaps selfishly, dragged my friend Tracy along with me so that I had someone to help me troubleshoot when no IT staff are present. They are never present, at least not physically and not during my work hours. So, here is my official apology - Tracy, I'm sorry for making you endure the torturous training days. I think I'm being punished for my selfishness.

How am I being punished, you ask? My head. My head is full of images of InfoMaker. My brain is brimming with data. I have now determined that I do not have a head cold. I instead have been struck down with the consequences of my actions and am paying penance for causing someone else to sit through a training that she may never really need. My head is nearly about to explode with FERPA violating material and if it does in fact spew out that confidential information, then I'll be fucked. If you notice a girl sitting in a corner muttering about ID numbers and ethnicities, that's probably me.

How do I know I'm being punished? I've been dreaming about the software program, thinking of tables and criteria and sorting in the between stages of asleep and awake. I thought about it a lot during my sick in bed time: ID numbers, entrance codes, joins, all of the crap that accompanies the reporting software we now use and that I need to utilize on a daily basis. You'd think it would be enough that I spend time each day writing and running these reports, why can't I think of something more interesting while drifting off to dreamland? Maybe something like Johnny Depp. But there is no Johnny Depp for me, instead I have to endure an indefinite amount of data. And data doesn't look good in a pirate's costume.