Sticky Beak
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The Skinny
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...life in small Northern towns, working for assholes, boys who refuse to become men, synthetic personalities, anorexic models and their link to emotional scarring, bad marijuana trips, crazies on BC Transit, beer, piece of shit cars, living out of a suitcase paycheck to paycheck, unrequited love, Seinfeld, minimum-wage jobs, broken New Year�s resolutions, and over-limit Visa accounts.
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Monday can Kiss Me Arse. 6:45 AM Hit snooze one too many times... finally crawl out of bed to discover I have a crick in my neck that prevents me from turning my head to the right. Awesome. On the up-side: Hallelujah! Water!!! 7:11 AM Running late, but not too bad. My wonderful Hubby starts the car for me, but as he�s coming in and I�m heading out, he tells me the tire is low... FLAT is more like it. DAMNIT! Using the handy-dandy portable air compressor my Dad gave me, I set to pumping the tire. Ssssssllllooooowwww. Tire pressure started at 10 psi... I manage to gather enough patience to allow the compressor to get it to 25ish, and then have to go. Crisis diverted - hallelujah for my Dad! 7:18 AM Finally! It's off to work I go but despite the warm weather and rain, the roads are still rather icy and I spin out a few times so am forced to keep my speed to 50 kph. 7:25 AM Not even close to the junction. DAMN! DAMN! 7:45 AM Coming into Castlegar. Tire is way too low... need to stop to fill it properly. I know that the Chevron has turned their air/water off for the winter, so stop in at Shell. No air. DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!!!! 7:48 AM Gonna be seriously late for work now. Turn into the next gas station, a PetroCan...a-HA! Spot the compressor on the side of the building, so turn in and fill the tire. Swinging the hose up to replace on the hook, it smacks me in the forehead, right at my hairline. Nice. Now I have bits of gravel and dirty water in my hair. 7:49 AM Seriously late for work. Check my mirrors, attempt a shoulder check with the crick in my neck, and can�t see anything out the back of the truck due to the filthy canopy window. Put in reverse, and... CRUNCH. Look in my mirror again, small brown truck is now resting on my rear bumper. Pull forward and park the truck. Get out (�Fuck! fuck! fuck!�), begin walking into the 7-11 to ask who owns this small brown truck when I spy the owner still pumping gas into the truck. 7:49:25 AM Owner is a girl from my hometown (MAGIC!). Burst into tears. She comes over and hugs me as I cry and apologize. Huge dent above her rear passenger-side wheel, but appears as though no structural damage has been caused. Hallelujah. 7:52 AM Both of us now late for work, she tells me not to worry about it today, we�ll deal with it another time and gives me another hug, then we head out. Cry all the way to work. 8:15 AM Arrive at work without my chubb card so cannot gain access to the building. Have to wait for one of my employees to arrive and let me into the building. Walk in and head straight to my friend�s desk to crumple into a pile of quivering tears. Instead of the friendly smile and good morning I'm desperate for, am greeted with "I'm mad at you and suggest you go away." Excellent. As she answers her phone, I turn and walk away � dazed and mildly irritated. 1:46 PM Am sitting (read: hiding) in the dark in my office battling the persistent headache due to this crick in my neck - 222's finally starting to take effect and shoulders feel like they are coming down a bit. Someone knocking at the door prompts me to pry myself from my chair. Open the door to small-framed co-worker who berates me for the generic email I sent to the entire building last Friday re: proper disposal of cigarette butts. Apparently she found the email "Rude, disrespectful and irritating". Additionally, it angered her enough that it "ruined [her] entire weekend". Me. Personally. All my fault. Despite the fact that I was merely the conduit for the communication which came from the Building Committee and Maintenance Department. After trying to get a word in edgewise, I finally give up and tell her that the email was intended to say "if you're doing this, please stop. if you're not, please disregard this message". If she's not guilty of it, then she shouldn't take such offense. Thanks for stopping by, now piss off. 1:51 PM Close door, absolutely steaming. Return to chair and continue to sit in the darkness of my cave desperately awaiting 4:34 PM when I can climb into the banjo truck and careen down the highway into whatever destruction next awaits. Happy Fucking Monday. How are you? |