Finance::Quote
It's out there, and I've told people about it. I've made a file release on SourceForge, submitted details to Freshmeat, and will be releasing on CPAN shortly. With luck I'll get a number of comments, bug reports, and desired features back. Possibly a few flames as well.

Ian
Ian's really getting into the whole SysAdmins-with-weapons-thing. I think this was something that he was never allowed to do at DECR because of the students, and at his conslutancy job because of the customers. Hopefully his aim will get better in time. He doesn't scare me at all yet.

Ian/Rockclimbing
Ian wants me to go rockclimbing with him tonight. I want to go too, but I'm very aware of how little awareness I have of my surroundings with this virus on me. I don't want to risk me being dangerous to either Ian or myself.

Finance::Quote
Finance::Quote is now available on Sourceforge. Hooray. The code in the CVS tree works pretty well, and I hope to have a proper packagey thing out shortly for CPAN... When I'm feeling better.

Work
Went to work today because I'm feeling much much better than I was over the weekend. Many people used colourful expressions to describe how I looked, and a number have encouraged me to go home early and get some rest. That sounds like a pretty good idea.

Ian's at work now, with new cute little glasses. Unfortunately I wasn't feeling well enough to give him a proper welcome to the company (nerf guns, whipped cream and bondage), so he's managed to escape his first few days here with some scraps of dignity. I'm sure I'll be able to fix that in time.

Upon entering the resturant, a bearded man, in his 40s or 50s, approached me. "Excuse me, but are you Mozart?" he queried with a rich European accent. The man took it well when I confessed that I was not Mozart, and he went back to ordering from the take-away bar. It never occured to me before that I may look like a great composer, although my uncle has been asked many times if he was John Lennon.

My parents, Jacinta, and myself sat at a table in the corner. We talked a little about the menu when I heard someone calling my name. "Excuse me? Paul?" An old collegue of mine from my Computer Science days was sitting on the table next to me. "Didn't you just submit a couple of patches to GnuCash?" Oh dear, my toying with accounting programs is starting to have influences on the real world. Should I be worried?

At first I thought the distorted sound, bright lights, ghostly voices, and the distinct impression of an anal probe were merely the side effects of eating extra-hot curry after a few too many beers. After some careful reflection I feel that I cannot dismiss this incident out-of-hand, no matter how normal and trivial it may seem to be.

My only vivid memories were that of things that were humanoid in shape. I distinctly remember one of them having a beard, but did not catch sight of the rest of its face. They were wearing white lab-coats, did not speak, and appeared to be drinking instant coffee. I remember trying -- without success -- to convince one of these creatures that the ground coffee was much better, even if it took longer to brew.

My next memory is that of waking the next morning with a blocked nose and a strange desire to read TaxPack 98-99. I suspect that I may be suffering from the effects of mind-control, mood-altering drugs, or even DNA manipulation transmitted through a virus vector.

The virus-vectored genetic manipulation scenario is unlikely, but must not be ignored. While I believe that I am no longer contagious, I may have unwittingly affected others with my illness. This could prove disasterous, and could cost the Australian Taxation Office hundreds of dollars in claims that replacement nerf-darts and mini-pumpkins are work related expenses.

I am investing in an Aluminium Foil Deflector Beanie to guard against mind-control, and sipping lemon-and-honey to combat the mood-altering drugs and sore throat.

Work/GnuCash/Quote.pm
Nothing to report as my illness is adversely altering my mental capacity to write code. Will be spending the day in bed. Dancer was kind enough to send me a get-well e-mail. I'm glad to see that my workmates care about my health and continued well-being.