Goal-App

Wow, we are already one week into 2017. The Christmas decorations are put away, the leftovers are eaten, and I have to get used to writing the correct year. So far it’s going well, although my brain had a glitch last week where I kept writing “2012.“It’s also the time where I keep getting asked what my New Year’s resolutions are. My standard answer has been “get more sleep and eat more food.” It’s not really a serious answer, because I am not a fan of New Year’s resolutions.

In Android you can schedule a notification that shows immediately using the NotificationManager.  However, if you are like me, awesome, and want to schedule a notification for a future date you need to use the Android AlarmManager.  The alarm manager lets you schedule an Intent to occur at a later date.

Quick aside, do you know what an Intent is in Android?  I kind of understand them but not as in-depth as I would like.  Please forgive any errors I make when I setup the alarm intent below.

Using old technology is a bit like driving a Model T on the Indy Speedway. It can be a bit scary, but most of the time it is incredibly frustrating and everything seems to be zooming past at a mind-boggling rate of speed.

Case in point: I have a version of Photoshop from 2002. It’s a robust program that I know inside out. It can do a lot of things, and when it came out, it was pretty mind-blowing. But, it’s from 2002. That means it is 14 years old. In Computer Years, that is like comparing something from the Jurassic Period to Present Day.

Unforeseen circumstances.

It isn’t a phrase that makes you jump for joy. Instead, it is a vaguely menacing combination of words that foretells of something throwing your plans off the rails. For me, it was a leg injury. If you have been following this blog series, you’ll know that I have been training to apply to the Edmonton Police Service. Things were falling into place. I had collected all the supporting documents for my application (transcripts, first aid certification and so forth), and was studying hard to write the entrance exams. I was in the best shape of my life, thanks to working with a personal trainer.

Math.

Few people tell me that they love math.

It brings back memories of sitting in a small, windowless room, back in grade 11, with my math tutor. My tutor smoked cigars. Lots of cigars. He smelled like a giant cigar. I really didn’t want to be there, but my math grades were abysmal. I tried - superficially, at best - to memorize the patterns of algebra, but desire to receive a non-abysmal grade in that class was overshadowed by a large teenage helping of “not giving a …”