of locks and lances

I felt much better when I woke up this morning, which is emphatic testament to the combined curative powers of writing code and drinking grapefruit juice. And then I got a call from Phil, which just made my morning. We chatted a little bit about lock replay, and I dove into it with much geeky gusto.

After about two hours, I had a disheartening realization. See, while I was working on the last chunk of recovery code, I convinced myself to put off a more complete rewriting of our RPC layer. Soon enough, I reasoned, I’d have several more of our acceptance tests working, and that would give me a much more robust system for testing my changes. Also, I’m sort of on a deadline, and need to resist the temptation to turn everything into a shining jewel when there are other large pieces yet to be written at all, let alone polished to a gleaming sparkle.

But now, the scales are fallen from my eyes. Now I see that without this rewrite, I’m going to have to resort to profound ugliness, and I really don’t want to go there. Like, really.

So I embark on another great rewrite adventure. But first, I travel to Medieval Times for the Velocet holiday party. Should be good fun.

It was good fun, actually. I bought Tyla a princess hat, for obvious reasons, and she made me wear it. Revenge will, again, be mine.

I made good progress on my RPC changes after dinner. Pretty soon, I won’t be very ashamed of my code at all. (Explaining the superhack— code that was committed by phil, but ultimately made necessary by my early flailings — to Sancus was a great motivator, in spite of his wise reminder of the worse-is-better principle I mention above.)

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