07/17/2003 - 9:05 p.m. | sincere heartfelt whatever

You wake up at 6:15, dad or mom or somebody yelling to confirm you're awake. You know you have to get up and get moving, but it's so hard. You don't even wanna move, let alone do anything. But no choice. You steady yourself and sit up. Here we go.

Standard morning stuff. Didn't forget to get the garbage out for once, same old White Town song in the shower. Immediately began welding. Seemed like it was gonna be another easy, homeostasis day. Permanent racks were full, Travo's travelling thing was nearly there as well. Plus, everyone is always late, so there's lots of time for me to finish things up and have my little paranoid conversations with myself and get ready.

Then, the welder explodes.

Sorry, not that dramatic, really. But, the "electrode" (I have no idea the significance of this device, but there you go!) broke on one side, so I make a bunch of crosses more or less. Somewhat appropriate. While Snake King set to work on that (he might have been vaguely pissy at me, but it really wasn't my fault this time), I was put under Tim's command. Oh fuck. So, there are these boxes that say, �SINGLE PEA FENCE� on them, and I have to tape on a little label that says �3 LEG HOOP� over that so that no one is the wiser. Sometimes I wonder if human beings have a point on this planet, and then I realize, yes � to stick labels on top of other labels. And, as is always the case with a manager showing a newbie, Tim was completely inept. Somehow he was generating vast amounts of static electricity, so the labels were sticking to the tape wrong and blah blah blah cretin. I took over and improved upon his system (this is not difficult). Once this was complete, I set about the same shit work I was making fun of my dad for yesterday � makin� legs. I�m good at it (not as good as him, but that�s pretty much always the case), but my left arm will be sore from turning the handle so many times. Pardon � continue to be sore because I am always sore. Also jabbing myself repeatedly with fat wire. Did I mention I�ve been having nothing but bad dreams lately? Meanwhile, Loony Pete (who is back at the factory once again) comes to me for advice about whether I think one of his butt welds will suffice. Unfortunately, he accidentally handed it to me weld first, so that I badly scorched my left thumb and forefinger (they continue to burn now � I expect a blister). I tried not to let it show. He�s not a bad guy; just not always on top of his game.

After 2 hours of legs, Snake King had fixed the welder and sprayed water all over the place or something. He warned me about falling on my ass. Thank you, dear. Back to welding and covertly singing. Dad came in rather early (no deliveries apparently) and set out at owning me at legs. Doughboy was consistently useless (he�s always so amazed at how fast my dad and I move), so I more or less caught up. Even made a little more than average. I asked Snake King for Monday off (outing with family!), wisely deciding Harve was too pissy at the moment, seeing as how both Walshes had insulted him today. My dad implied that everyone thinks Harve is insane because of his decision to put the building inside the building (it is insane, by the way � we barely have enough room as it is� best to stick a small house inside!). And same old, same old with me. He was putting some wire on the welder as I was finishing up, and I accidentally let the machine weld when there was nothing in it. So, he starts on his all-too-familiar lecture about how I could ruin the company if I did that, etc. Annoyed, I told him it was just an accident, and that everyone makes mistakes. I steeled myself for what was obviously coming. �Well, we don�t expect those kind of mistakes from U of I guys.� Motherfucker. Pretty sick of this crap, so I fired a little shot at his school to make my point: �Well, we can�t all be pinnacles of perfection like you Ohio State alum.� Yeah, I know. Weak. I had something much better about inbreeding worked up, but I�m not quite prepared to be fired yet. Anyway, it was more than enough to upset him. �Well, not this kind of mistake.� I spat the bitterest laugh I could at him, and he�s kind of avoidant now. Yes, Nate�s not as fucking docile as you all thought, is he? Suck a dick, Harve. Crazy old man.

Came home and followed the usual crashing routine. I had contemplated getting a haircut, but my hair and I have deemed it unnecessary for the time being (unless Mom wants to do it tomorrow? Huh?! Huh?!). Oh! I was finally accepted for a credit card! The ugly one. Damn it. Gotta start somewhere, though... Read, ate, slept.

You wake up at 6:15, dad or mom or somebody yelling to confirm you're awake. You know you have to get up and get moving, but it's so hard. You don't even wanna move, let alone do anything. But no choice. You steady yourself and sit up. Here we go.

The confusing part is that my alarm clock is 12 hours off. Anyway, dinner was good tonight � tortellini with pesto, artichokes, and shrimp. Puts me in mind of Za�s. Even the headache and nauesa pesto seems to give me (not that that stops me). Did some laundry and watched sucky sitcoms. I always plan so much more. Wagon is not fixed yet, although not from lack of effort on the part of the used car people. They�re working their butts off, even though we did technically buy it as is. I hope it�s good to go by Saturday. I can always use the Maxima, but I do love that maroon monstrosity. The most exciting part of the day is always the discovery of new Avril posters. Sad sad sad, Nate. Get a hobby. Oh, this is your hobby. Get a new one.

The power keeps going out, so there's no reason for me to stay up, I guess. Would be a terrible shame if I slept through work tomorrow, though, huh? ;) Not bloody likely.