A minor aspect of the workosphere is love. In an adverse financial climate people with work to do are left alone to do it, and what they believe they know about love is their own business. It might sound like I'm stating the obvious, but whether something is actually obvious to another person or not is seldom something we can accurately guess.
How relationships form I believe is obvious to every adult, so that I need but mention the options available to people who have a good working relationship.
The same may happen at school, but in my recollection there were few activities which saw people being encouraged to work together on a task, except extra-mural ones. And no boys who played rugby, for example, thought each other attractive. If memory serves me correctly, we had no mixed sports.
It must be remembered that though the school-o-sphere is well over a hundred-and-fifty years old it is still very much an experiment.
Boys at school were encouraged to take the risk that a girl would turn him down if he asked her to meet him outside of school (or somewhere that was out of sight). It took courage, they said, and also that having courage makes men of boys. But that's the same talk used about making dares, and dares amount to getting someone to crack an egg in their own face.
And I had already been in the bedrooms of a few girls in highschool to do what I thought was fun: learning. The term late starter may be appropriate. Others might call me a non-starter: I would also have preferred it that way.
But I know that some people did find a kind of love that suited them, within the school-o-sphere.
This is a bit of an affected term for just school. But it becomes necessary because day-care centers for girls and boys who come to look at the statutory definition as being none of their business and immoderately applied to how they in particular are growing are brain-washing people into thinking about fishes when they see the word school.
My friends, who have weighed into my thoughts as of a polite request, who'd have been the least likely candidates for new ones I could've thought of had I been asked to make a list, once they had decided for each other while in the day-care centre, must have conferred on the matter of completing their education. Some might say they supported each other, but that would leave me with a big ego I didn't ask for, and make me wonder where these supposed some are who are happy to use words like ego.
The day-care center, or day-care centre, is preparation for the work-o-sphere. Love birds might look beyond the sphere they're in, but they're likely to pop their heads back in quickly.
Let's just wait until we hatch.
Within the work-o-sphere are those places that design things that come with those cheap set of tools that the school-o-sphere demands every creature bring, for the sake of mathematical instruction.
Some dividers could go all the way.
Some people saw that the only job they'd be able to get is one in which they do the splits from morning to evening.
But some attractive girls who only had to lounge on bikes while dressed in a fashion which we might not say was quite respectable, but which we could not in any way say was disrespectable, nonetheless looked at us as if they were nothing but slaves in a man's world.
"Look at what the patriarch is forcing us to do."
Except, and I may just be an exception, when I looked at a bike in a shop window it didn't need a girl sitting on it for it to jump at me. Thus those girls must be right: the patriarch--their fathers--were forcing them to take money for doing very little, and claiming that it was for the sake of true motorcycle enthusiasts.
We all knew that it is better to do some skivvy work than to sit thinking that we belong in another class of person than those who must do skivvy work as their only means of supporting their family.
Having a family to support gives us a centre when it comes to having to design a new plastic ruler or doing the splits simply because we're told to do our jobs, and we're all in this together.
I certainly had been hoping to complete one of my app projects in order to get recognition. But it seems I've the rather just gone through what others went through, which I thought I could avoid by supporting and developing in-house solutions and possibly contributing to G'Nunix.
In-house is the key, here. It contradicts with another term that people might have come to think is a better option for custom systems. Unnecessary features are indistinguishable from bugs.
But I'll bring it to a close here, as I do still have some ideas which have been something of a centre to me, and which will go nicely with people coming to look at hierarchical namespaces, and work at getting them just as they'd like them.
But don't wait up for me: maybe I'll get a wife who forbids me to do any more programming.