So, I talked with people about work.
One was my brother, who's friends with my boss (and in fact got me the job), and who's been brought in as independent yet reasonably clueful party to evaluate not just my project but anything my boss gets all tense about. After a slightly escalating series of e-mails in which I pointed out yes, it all freaking works and he insisted it does not, we got to the nub of it. Most of the points that my boss --- and thus, my brother --- thought were broken were the results of design choices which I thought my boss understood and agreed with. With those choices explained, and for some of them changed (one of them would have been a two-keystroke change except the parameter showed up in many different contexts that couldn't be simplified to a single global), he agreed, I had indeed pretty much what my boss had asked for.
And then Tuesday I had time to talk with my boss, who'd gotten the basics relayed from my brother. I believe that now he understands why his feedback was driving me to conclude he was an unsatisfiably crazy person as opposed to just a crazy person. And after talking over the project for a couple of hours I believe he agrees with me about how to take what was learned from this draft of the project into a new ``gold'' version. And he thinks one of my proposals to handle a bottleneck is not just the way we should do it but also a great solution that makes the company's databases substantially richer.
(I'm pleased to say he supports my programming preference of writing multiple drafts and, when the code starts getting to crufty, re-write from scratch using what I learned the last iteration. My brother is firmly of the school that Rewrites Kill Projects So Don't Ever Do Them.)
I still don't know where I'm going to be in a month, although if I amstill around that'll give me the chance to try out my new dental coverage. But, boy, if my boss had told me what he'd been telling my brother, maybe we wouldn't have had such an infuriating past month.
Maybe I should also say, my boss's (and the secretary's) main concern Friday were whether I'd been in an accident, and not considered that I'd blown off work. The company is nicer than one run by grown-ups would be, despite the number of places in the office's drywall which had been punched or kicked in and never adequately repaired.
Later in the day today were the car problems.
Trivia: A single edition of the Miami Daily News in 1925 topped 500 pages. Most of that space was real estate ads. Source: Anxious Decades: America in Prosperity and Depression, 1920-1941, Michael E Parrish.
Currently Reading: Indonesia: The Crisis Of The Millstones, Benjamin Higgins, Jean Higgins. It's an early 50s book, updated in the early 60s, about the challenges and prospects facing Indonesia.