12Dec/110
The Worst Monday Ever -or- Fuck you, Sony
My Monday morning started at 5:50am on Sunday. Just about the time one of the switches decided to give up the ghost. I, of course, didn't find out that anything was wrong because any alert emails would have required the Exchange server to be online and connected to, oh, anything. So I'm blissfully unaware of anything and preparing for a leisurely Sunday of football and maybe some Skyrim (Major General Kittyman needs to project arrows into faces or else he gets grumpy), when I get a call from the stage manager. Now, I know something is up, because this is not a voice I should be hearing on a Sunday morning, so immediately, I know shits about to get real, yo.