10:00 pm. I’m still at the station and I’m now completely alone. Everyone else has gone home, leaving me, the stranger from out of town, alone in a building stuffed with millions of dollars worth of electronics, not to mention four radio studios to choose from in which I could barricade myself and begin broadcasting my insane manifesto.

But no, instead I’m just sitting here, surfing the web. And considering rifling through some drawers. I wouldn’t do that, but it’s fun to consider.

Why am I still here? We finally got into the locked account, booted up the overnight machine, and managed to get two logs to autoload. Unfortunately, we still have two more logs to load. The traffic manager who was working them at 6:00 abruptly stopped halfway through, announcing that he had to go bike riding and that he’d be back at 10 (or was it 10:30?) to finish.

So here I sit, hungry, tired and cranky, waiting for this lollygagging nipplehead to finish what should have only taken 15 minutes to do in the first place. Knowing him, though, it’s going to take him an hour to do it once he finally gets here, and he’ll be complaining the whole way and bitching about how much better his beloved old system would have done this.

I may actually give his old system a test drive if he starts up with that noise. The PC and monitor it ran on are still here, sitting on the floor next to his desk. I bet they’ll crush his skull nicely, much better than our system would.

He’ll die happy.