Mmm… post rock. How many times have I written of thee and thy apocalyptic sound? How fitting that I find another great band tonight, and listen to their clamour as I read about the impending asplosion of Mt. St. Helens. For real y’all, that thing is ready to blow. It might as well be shooting molten earth from my speakers right now as I bang my head, in a mathy kinda way, to some old Mono albums. Rad. Right now I’m drinking straight out of a two-liter bottle of root beer, I don’t even care. Intro paragraph over.
Today (yesterday, for those who don’t understand my nightly posting schedule) was a good day at work. Not because I got some praise or anything, but because I worked hard and got a lot done. And at the end of the day, or, around 7pm, I had my junk ready and was able to head home with a clear conscience. Sometimes the best days are when I’m just busy enough that I’m hovering right above that “one more task and my brain folds” line, and that’s what today was. I was right at the limit of my multitasking, a limit which I consider to be pretty respectable. The day ended well too, with a free communal meal at Anthony’s place, where I managed to draw a couple cold ones off the keg before it sputtered out. Yeah, just about the right end to a productive day.
I contrast days like today with their antithesis, days I like to chalk up to dissolution. Maybe I’m the only one who has these days, I dunno, maybe I’m the only one who can sail through them without guilt. I’m talking about days where I come into work, and literally don’t do a dang thing unless it’s unavoidable. Most of the time, you end up doing something, because just being there seems to make people want to ask you questions or answer e-mail. But there are those rare days where my brain checks out and I’m just sitting there. I dunno, in the beginning when I started working at my job – I was new and there wasn’t much to do, so I would always go home feeling guilty for taking a paycheck. Nowadays, things are so busy I relish the slow times, giving myself one-off “working vacation” days when there’s nothing pressing to attend to. It’s just, sometimes, you get a bit tired of it all – and need to check out. Or, at least, I do.
You guys wanna hear some crap? Well, if you remember, I was recently complaining about having to shell out two deductibles to our auto insurance because a) Sharaun’s car got broken into, and b) her windshield cracked down the middle when she washed it with cold water on a hot day? Well, that was the second windshield she’d been through on that car since we bought it, only a year ago. We got it back two on Friday, today is Wednesday. Today a rock flew up and shattered her windshield. Again. For the third time her windshield is broken.
You can imagine the scene. It’s circa 3pm yesterday and I get a phone call at my desk, “Why can’t I just have an effing windshield?!?!” “What?,” I reply. Through sobs I hear, “A rock just flew up and broke my windshield!!” A frustrated teary scream and then, “I don’t understand!! Why?!?!” “Calm down,” I urge, holding back my own rage at the fates for casting us this hand, “We’ll get it fixed, I know it sucks but it’ll be OK.” Why y’all, why? Like I said, the insurance agency must be taking one hell of a toll and paying out their ass for all the hurricane damage – so they’ve got adjusters on the roadside chucking rocks at passing cars to make up for losses. Well we’re done, stop breaking our junk and leave us alone.
11:30 in the PM, time for me to put away the root beer, turn off the lights, and hit the hay. G’night. Oh, and, hey new kid, the block welcomes you. Dave out.
Also written on this day...
- as the week wanes - 2009