Work is crazy. Flat out, hands down, rockin’ and knockin’ crazy. We’re trying to set up our online shop with a leading e-commerce site, and just about nothing is going right. The products won’t upload. Now the products will upload but their images and descriptions won’t display. Now the product images have slid their thin little bodies into every crevice on the page. Now the duplicate products won’t delete. Now the products won’t upload again.
It is absolute mayhem, and so far all we have in their database is fourteen watches. In the next month we’re going to have thousands of windsurfing products. I keep myself sane through the whole thing by talking to myself, which drives my co-workers crazy.
In a noble attempt to stem the tide of error messages received from the leading e-commerce site, our programmer gave me a large red button on our back-end maintenance page. Pressing this button purges the system of all products. Because of a confused assigning of numbers to the options available on the page, there were three number 6’s. The large red button was the third 6.
I call it Option 666.
Our programmer has since fixed the numbering system, but I still call the big red button by name. I think Option 666 would be a great name for a band. I think I’ll start it. I think I’ll make t-shirts.
I think I’ll go windsurfing.