I'm sick. I spent all superbowl weekend on my couch in a mild fever induced trip cramming myself full of vitamins and cough syrup. The people at work all saw me leave with the early on-set of death plague. Walking into my office this morning made it abundantly clear that while I had conquered death at her own game it had cost me something; in short I still wasn't back to my normally staggering amount of awesome.
We had a drive in our filer go bad. This isn't a problem. Every tray of hard drives has two hot spares ready to leap into action the moment one goes bad, and, in the highly unlikely even that three hard drives go bad all at once, the filer next to it is a hot copy that will auto swing into place. So one drive blowing is not bad. Especially since the filer calls the manufacturer, transmits the problem, and orders a replacement drive. When I got to work at 8:30 I found out about the problem and by 9 the drive had been picked up from the dock and slotted in the filer and everything was good.
Chet; my twit co-worker, who so wants to be my new team lead despite the fact that he can't find his ass with his hands and the help of a gay proctologist, comes in and starts asking me if I knew it had happened and telling me what I needed to do to fix it. He cut what is an incredibly easy procedure into the smallest possible of steps and then questioned me if I had done them yet in a manner that suggested I was a god damn retard incapable of listening and breathing at the same time. After I had explained to him that it was covered; an hour and a half before he showed up to work, he starts going into things I ought to do which I have already planned to do when I get a spare moment. I'm sick and it's early, but what the hell, suffering fools is good for the soul. I shush him up and tell him there isn't anything about this that he can request of me that I haven't already done or plan to do since it is my responsibility and not his. Politely told to shut up and leave he goes and I take several small breaths to restore my blood pressure to something that doesn't make me feel like I've got a chest burster about to pop out and kill half the crew of my starship while I have bad 80's hair and skimpy white panties .... sorry.
Two hours later when the old foggy that ran our NOC before my last team lead shows up; thats 12:30, 3.5 hours after I've fixed the problem, he starts in on if I knew of the problem and did I know how fixed it. But this guy is different slightly in that he doesn't stop to get my answer to his questions. He asks a question and then immediately goes into long excruciating detailed explanation of why it's important and how he'd have done it.
At this point I lose it. I just start chanting "I've already done that" with breaks only for breath while rocking back and forth. When the foggy stops talking I keep going; chanting my mantra. Eventually he is lost; not knowing what to do when a co-worker obvious has gone absolutely barking fucking mad, ape shit crazy in space. Then I seem to break free of my demonic possession, look at him, and tell him that if I've already done the next thing he asks me about this that he has to leave. He thinks about it; desperately hoping to pick something obscure so that he can continue being a obnoxious know-it-all and asks his question. Before he gets it all the way out I know I've already done it. "I've already done that" and point to the door. I kinda wished he had tried to keep talking so that I could just start barking and slathering at the mouth but he realizes I'm an inch from filling him full of squirrels and leaves.
I think I ought to post a list of warning signs so that co-workers and users don't cause me to burst because I can totally see me blacking out one day and coming to while repairing a computer; replacing parts, screwing and unscrewing stuff, when SWAT rolls through the door and tells me to put down the screw driver at which point I'll realize it was a dead bloody body that I was putting a new hard drive into.