Thinking I had the day off yesterday, I stayed up until 6 a.m. watching really mindless stuff on Youtube. Asia’s Next Top Model. I know. I’m embarrassed. But I was too tired to do anything else, yet not tired enough to go to sleep.
It was garbage pickup day, so no way I could drift off to sleep until around 7 a.m. At 9 am, my neighbor started cutting down a tree. He gave up after about an hour and I sank back into dreamland. Then the phone rang. I looked at the clock and it was noon. I let the machine get it, but it’s my boss, and I fell out of bed in a rush to find my cordless phone which seems to delight in being God knows where at any given time. I make a mental note to remind myself that when I see that big bruise on my knee in a few days, this is why it’s there. I called my boss back. He wants to know if I’ll come in to work at 3:45. Will I? When I’ve only been getting about 8 hours of work a week and have been waking up in a cold sweat wondering how I’ll pay the bills? Of course I will!
At this point, if I were a cartoon, I’d have one of those squiggly lines drawn above my head, but it occurs to me that I have no food in the house, and when you work on a bridge you don’t get to run down the street for lunch, so if I’m going to eat during that shift, I need to bring a meal with me. So In a sleep deprived fog, I feed my dogs, who have long since given up trying to figure out my schedule, then I go down the street to do some shopping. I have plenty of time. It’s 12:30, and I don’t have to leave for work until 3:00. So I stumble down the grocery aisles, putting random sh*t in my cart, when this lady near me accepts a call on her cell phone. She’s chatting away, and then she says “Well, it’s 2:30 now. I’ll be there soon.”
Suddenly I’m wide awake. What did she just say? I grab my cell phone and look at the time. It IS 2:30. “SON OF A B**TCH!” I shout, right in front of the dairy case. I rush to the cash register, practically throw my food at the cashier, grab my bags and bolt out the door. I can’t go straight to work because I’m not in my extremely unattractive uniform, and if I don’t let the dogs out to poop they’re going to leave presents all over my landlady’s new carpet.
I rush home, toss the dogs into the back yard, hop in the shower, and get dressed. I’m running around the house in a panic, leaping over piles of dirty clothes, forgetting what I’m looking for, and then realize, jeez, after all that I almost forgot to pack my lunch.
Okay, now I’m ready to head out the door. All I have to do is bring the dogs in. I go to the back yard and they’re nowhere to be found. My landlady has left the side gate open again. Now I’m running around the house, frantically shouting for the dogs, and the neighbors are peeking out the windows at me. Blue comes right away. He’s a mama’s dog. But Devo is cruising the neighborhood trying to pick up chicks. Cursing the disaster that is my life, I put Blue in the house, put my stuff in the car, and then start walking down the street, screaming for Devo. He finally runs out of someone’s garage looking pleased with himself and I drag him back to the house.
I start the commute, thinking at least I can speed to make up time, but then I realize that on this shift I always hit the three school zones. Great. So I grit my teeth as I drive 15 miles per hour, and then I finally get to the parking lot, and my coworkers aren’t there yet. Not only am I on time, but somehow I’m early. I fall asleep waiting for my coworkers, and when they arrive I discover I’m working with the woman who hates me, that I blogged about the other day.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another.