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� 05/24/2003 - 1:33 a.m. | sound of your It's 1:30, and I'm getting up at 8:30 to go to an auction with my mom tomorrow, so as logic stands, I should get some sleep. And yet here I am.
Hours worked: 6.5 (10-4:30) Driving to work today, late (but not painfully late), a gum cigarette in my hand, I passed by Sheridan Grade School; they were having recess. As my windows were already down, I screamed at them, "ENJOY SCHOOL, SUCKERS!" as I passed by. While it is true that I was no better off than they were (worse, some might say... but I am getting paid), they don't know that. For all they know, I could be driving off to Disneyworld. I was heading in the opposite direction of Disneyworld, but they're just stupid little kids; they don't know that kind of stuff yet. Arriving at work, I looked around for Snake King, assuming today would finally be the day I did the cardboard jobbers. But, well knowing that I would be in at 10 and that would I need something to do, he made the wise decision to vanish for an hour. My boss, ladies and gentlemen. Thinking maybe he passed on some instructions to another, I asked around, but that was a flaw in my logic. I assumed he knew what he was doing. Never again. Anyway, somebody mumbled something about me winding string again. Okey dokey. Will do. To bind the bundles together, I use these little plastic zip thing (you know, you pull the tab through the slot and they lock? people use them to bundle wires together a lot). The last few days, I just used boring old white ones, but I ran out and the replacements they gave me are in crazy technicolor! Now, I try to keep my mind focused on the task at hand, but I swear that I now spend about half a second on each bundle unconsciously deciding what color plastic thing to use. "Oh, how about... green... for you?" Useless, Nate. Useless. The rolls of string wound down to the end, but given the options of a) figuring out how to get new ones set up on my own or b) asking Snake King for help and watch his brain struggle through the Alzheimer's to get an answer, I chose the former. I did the right thing. From what my dad told me, Snake King seems to think he'll be inheriting control of the factory from Harve. The crucial flaw in his plan is that he is 65 years old himself. This is not a young go-getter we've got here, no spring chicken, no stupid other synonym. He can't be much younger than the current tyrant (Harve), and despite the song, there are plenty of things to stop him in golden years (e.g. death). Once I switched to the welder (getting even better - this is sick!), I noticed with a certain amount of satisfaction that Snake King still wasn't working on my cardboard things. Hopefully, I'll make it through the summer without having to do them, but I assume someone more competent (or less senile) will eventually remind him about that. In the meantime, I am in this constant conflict as I watch him putz around and do practically nothing ("I gotta take these panels over to Tom..." "Um, OK, Dave"). One part of my brain is all about making money. "Let him run around and do his shit. It's not hurting you any." My loyalty to this company lasts as long as I keep getting paid. I am not here for the good of the company. I don't care about orders or staying late to make sure things get done. "Do you think you'll work any Saturdays?" "Nope." The other part is infuriated that this man is being paid to be completely useless and waste time. I want to tell him to do something useful, but of course it's not my place, so I just whistle and kick ass at welding. You'll notice (well, prolly not) that today's CDs are themed. This will be a Friday tradition, I've decided, and I've already got the next month pretty much planned out (lots of time, like I said). Really, not much happened today. I got a little philosophical and realized that I was only getting paid to push a little button on the floor that activates a counter; I could just mash it for a few hours and end up with the same result (so to speak). Nevermind, that makes no sense. I had Doritos with lunch. Fucking Doritos. Shit, it's 2. Keep going, dummy. Left work at 4:30 :D and had a fairly pleasant drive home. Dad and I changed and then went to meet Mom and her work friends at some racin' bar!! Everyone pretty much ignored me, which is the most I could hope for (at the time anyway). The register blew stupid cold air at my ass the whole time (damn perch) and Mom discussed some of her recent paranoia. She seems to be a little worse off than I was; she's imagined she has some form of shoulder cancer (does such a thing exist?). "The doctor said my white blood cell count was LOW" "Uh, when it's high, that's usually a sign something's wrong..." "Oh." Not that it particularly convinced her. Damn you, unbeatable paranoia. As far as other conversations went, the one about lunch was repeated so many times that it will never leave my memory. Mom went to McDonald's (which she hates) and got a double cheeseburger and Value McFries for $2.13. Dad went to El Loco Burrito and saw some guy with a burrito as big as his foot. This will never leave me. Damn you, brain. Drove to Starved Rock to see Steve Sharp (local acoustic geetarist - very obsessive following by some of my parents' friends - even though we discovered him first) when I suddenly got very, very hungry. I never get hungry, and then I was craving all this stuff. Ice cream bars and chicken sandwiches and (oh man) frozen M&M's. It was like I needed a fix. As soon as we got there, I ran to the vending machine and ate a whole bag of M&M's in 30 seconds. Then a chicken sandwich in about a minute. And I was still hungry. Man... getting sleepy. I finish later. You sleep now. Me too.
I won't be soothed, |