Cold and rainy Monday. I haven’t even clocked in yet, and I’ve still heard the inevitable. Not a bad day to work! Glad to be inside! Warm and dry in here!
Continue reading ‘Terror Alert: Wage Slave Kills for Muskrat Love’
Well, Saturday is my 34th birthday. I tried to round up some old birthday articles in the archives, but only found a post for my 32nd birthday and one for the 31st. I had brain surgery right before my 33rd birthday, so I didn’t bother to write anything special.
I have no idea what those two articles are about because I never re-read my work. I horrify me.
I’ve had two experiences that I would call ‘supernatural.’ There have been many frights and weird things, but only those two have been truly odd. Though, of course, there are always explanations.
I’ve been bitching about the Wifi access at my weekend job being withheld. So imagine my surprise when, after last Saturday’s post, one of the tech people slipped into my little office and said:
“Look, we all read Great Society. You know that, right? Let’s get you set up on the Wifi!”
It took a while for those words to sink in because I was scrambling to hide bottles of wine, unplug my laptop from the LAN, shut down the porn, and pull my pants up.
One of my most embarrassing on the job moments is from 1993. I worked in a little bookstore attached to an old mansion nestled in a sleepy suburb of DC. Those were the carefree days before gentrification really took hold, so sunset meant cows and pigs and yuppies went to sleep.
I took in a show at DAR Constitution Hall last night and was stopped by security for a bag search, because I walk around with a backpack all the time. Yes, it’s a man purse. And, yes, it’s mostly empty, which makes the habit a little upsetting whenever I really think about.
I say mostly empty because, like a troubled high school kid, I also walk around with a big old knife. It’s in the bag, since there has to be some purpose for the man purse. Also in the bag was a one liter plastic bottle of water — empty. So the security guard had me open the bag and he looked in at the knife, then his eyes lit up.
Oh! An internal memo! That’s good, because our computers are too slow to properly play episodes of MacGyver at CBS.com. While I can spend hours patting myself on the back for singlehandedly slowing down the system, there’s still lots of time to kill in the day. What better way then to turn all my efforts on what has become the Pie Chart Puzzle?
The logic behind taking a Friday off is to get chores done. There’s really no such thing as a mental health day these days, because I’ve found myself doing much more in my personal life than I do at work.
So I took today off, woke up at 5am, and by 10am I had put 100 miles on the car and had run a two page list worth of errands. Which is brave, because some of that saw me on the Beltway. I’ve always hated driving, and the Beltway helps remind me why.
I’ve often mentioned my storage cleanout plan. I have two storage units far upcounty crammed full of Far Too Much Shit. So, slowly, I’m hauling carload after carload of that shit back to my little paradise apartment. Most of it is trashed – and it’s greatly rewarding to do so. Though, instead of trashing all the old books I have, I’m sticking them up on Amazon. Here’s my storefront, where you now have the chance to inherit my childhood fantasy and sci-fi collection for pennies. Right now, there are over 100 titles there…most of them basically up there for the cost of shipping.
I’ve been closely following the developing race war in the mailroom. I don’t really care about either side of the battle, I’m just thrilled when the humdrum of my daily working life is changed (or is near a sphere of change). For example, on 9/11, I was thrilled. All that death and horror, and I was giggling like a schoolgirl because, Jesus, finally, something was happening.
Life has bored me to tears. This isn’t a recent thing. I’ve been bored since I was a kid. I blame weak parenting, because I learned very early on that your elders will always let you down because they’re feeble and crazy.
When thinking of this article during my morning commute, that’s the title that was sort of stuck with it.
I cook up most of these posts during my long bus and train ride into the office, because I find it much easier to press my forehead against the window and daydream instead of read, or scribble in the little notebook that I carry around with me like Super Nerd.
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