Blackmoor Vituperative

Today was my first day on my new project: redesigning the system that the Virginia Marine Resource Commission uses to track and license commercial fishing and fishing equipment. Pretty darn cool, and good money (better than I got with SAIC). What’s more, I’m telecommuting: I only have to go into the office for meetings. The rest of the time, I am in my comfy leather manager’s chair, at my nice desk, using exactly the hardware and software that I need to do my job (and if you’ve been following my recent exploits, you know just how important that is to me). So I’m sitting here and wrapping up for the day, when I hear a tremendous racket from outside. I open the door and look outside, and what do I see? Hail. There are chunks of ice the size of dice raining down out of the sky. Ice. This is May 23 — it’ll be June in a week, and there are chunks of ice falling from the sky. Lots of the them!

Man, that’s just weird.

Okay, it quieted down outside, so I went outside to look again, and the ice is gone. Apparently it all melted in the time it took me to type this. Or was it ever there to begin with?