Reporting from demo hell.

Well, it turns out that Zope is not that safe, massively engineered product that propaganda claims it to be.
Instead, it is something that works very well out of the box. The moment you try something kind of reasonable and useful to customize it to your needs, it buttfucks you with a sledgehammer, if you pardon my French.

This being said, the Zope sufferers mailing list is very supportive and nurturing.

What else: yesterday there was a power interruption that I, in my new position of King of All Things that Go Beep and Have LEDs had to investigate, which led me to visiting the power substation of the building. I was horrified, but I am too busy to faint.
Then Oracle crashed, because one the processors on the fucking big expensive very reliable gold plated Sun just tanked. This is the second one in six months, and if you ask me it is two too many for machines that cost in the >20K$.
Then the network sucks, but this was expected.

The day is nicely capped by my SO's demands for time, care and affection, which I cannot satisfy because I am in demo hell, something she cannot really understand not being a techie.
So I feel like a cold heartless bastard, and leave early and come back late at night, wondering about the day when I will die.
I feel particularly bad, because I am harboring the growing suspect that she does not entirely want me to succeed, because I am more easily accessible when some nice whack from life has cracked my shell. This is the sort of mental poison that I would normally avoid. Yet I cannot help thinking that she was never sweeter than when I was a jobless student, living on dwindling savings and sweating blood on my thesis and finals. And safely at home. Like a poodle. Boy, what bitterness.

Maybe one should just jump on a plane, say farewell to this crazy country and skip. Punt. Dump core, reboot, reinstall and go back home.
There are days I suspect that my current life is hallucination, and reality (and Milan and my family) are just waiting for me to wake up. This must be homesickness.

Oh, and the construction work goes on, with giant drills that sound as if they were right into my head: the building is like a big sounding board. Even my desk trembles.