I had started purging everything just a few minutes after I received report yesterday morning.
It’s honestly rather liberating to clean out fifteen years’ of bookmarks, credentials, emails, accounts, logins, and apps for every realed, ecollege, eclg, pearson, and prsn domain and realm that I’ve worked in.
Clean up the old domain references and make way for whatever is new.
Because I have a whiteboard in my office and hardly anyone ever sees it (sometimes, they do) this is something that I wrote up there as a reminder to work in smaller chunks and not to try to fix everything at once.
You cannot boil the ocean. Don’t try. You can only raise the temperature of an extraordinarily minuscule fraction of its water.
Or, put another way, aim small, miss small.
Right, so why is this notable?
Primarily because it’s also occurred to me that my ability to simply wield a pen has improved. And I’m actually rather proud of that.
I had lost the ability to write (agraphia? not sure what it’s called) associated with the fall. I could read just fine, and I could type, albeit rather slowly. Comprehension wasn’t at all an issue. But the ability to make consistent pen-strokes was lost. It simply felt unfamiliar.
Certain letters were more problematic than others, particularly those that had arcs: B, D, O, P, S — I just couldn’t make my hand make the shapes that I wanted.
Now, it’s not as fast as it used to be. But it’s aligned, consistent, and legible, which is quite good, thankyouverymuch.
In IT, sometimes, you should clean out the fridge, so to speak. For example, delete old accounts. Delete old rules. Delete old processes.
I was cleaning out my own email rules just the other day, and this one came up, which was from another account’s auto-responder. It has been dutifully sending out responses to every request that hits its mailbox… for about three years: