Today:
* I missed the bus I needed to get to work. Since that particular line only runs once an hour on Saturdays, that means I was an hour late. At least my manager is being totally understanding while I work out the wrinkles of this new commute.
* A customer called me fat. I'm not even fucking kidding here. I'm no stick figure, and I wouldn't exactly waste away if I lost fifteen pounds, but my weight is pretty healthy for my body type. I'm not sure I could lose fifteen pounds. I bet I couldn't do it safely.
* My boy Boomer gave up THREE CONSECUTIVE home runs.
* My coworker decided when she came in that it would be perfectly okay to change the radio station I was listening to (ie, the GAME). Never mind that I routinely put up with seven or eight hours of shitty country music because she often gets to work before I do. She just couldn't stand to listen to twenty minutes of baseball till I left.
* The Red Sox lost to the Blue Jays. By kind of a lot. I'm just glad I missed the fucking grand slam when I took off my headphones long enough to change my shirt in the bathroom after my shift.
* The Yankees won. After the Orioles spent most of the game way ahead of them.
Also:
* My manager had no problem whatsoever with listening to the same mix for, like, three hours, and also seemed to enjoy "That Was a Crazy Game of Poker" by OAR so much that it made her lose count when she was counting the cigarettes. *g*
* A customer thanked me profusely for paying attention to the fact that her credit card said "check ID" next to her signature.
* David Ortiz hit a three run homer. (Brief aside: Since Sunday, I have seen and heard so many homers that it is just ridiculous. I can't even begin to count them. It seems so disproportionate. Is it because the pitchers are still settling back into the routine? I'm not sure I like it. If you have an aeverage of, like, four homers a game, it cheapens them a lot. Homers should be exciting, not routine, and certainly not expected. I, probably because of my father's influence, am a fan of putting together runs the old-fashioned way: By getting plenty of HITS.)
* At least I missed the three runs Halama apparently gave up.
* The Tigers absolutely creamed the Indians, 11-1. Go Tigers! I think the Sox loss would have been easier to take if I'd been listening to the Tigers game instead. This is the second time a Tigers win has eased a Sox loss. Maybe I should move to Michigan.
* I have dried sweet potatoes. And ramen for later. No, not that Oodles of Noodles shit. Real ramen, with thick noodles and bean curd.
* I have Heineken.
So, the day sucked pretty hard, and when that happens, it's wise to remind yourself of the good things that happened. No day is all bad if you look hard enough. I know how nauseating that sounds, but sometimes things are both nauseating and true.
* I missed the bus I needed to get to work. Since that particular line only runs once an hour on Saturdays, that means I was an hour late. At least my manager is being totally understanding while I work out the wrinkles of this new commute.
* A customer called me fat. I'm not even fucking kidding here. I'm no stick figure, and I wouldn't exactly waste away if I lost fifteen pounds, but my weight is pretty healthy for my body type. I'm not sure I could lose fifteen pounds. I bet I couldn't do it safely.
* My boy Boomer gave up THREE CONSECUTIVE home runs.
* My coworker decided when she came in that it would be perfectly okay to change the radio station I was listening to (ie, the GAME). Never mind that I routinely put up with seven or eight hours of shitty country music because she often gets to work before I do. She just couldn't stand to listen to twenty minutes of baseball till I left.
* The Red Sox lost to the Blue Jays. By kind of a lot. I'm just glad I missed the fucking grand slam when I took off my headphones long enough to change my shirt in the bathroom after my shift.
* The Yankees won. After the Orioles spent most of the game way ahead of them.
Also:
* My manager had no problem whatsoever with listening to the same mix for, like, three hours, and also seemed to enjoy "That Was a Crazy Game of Poker" by OAR so much that it made her lose count when she was counting the cigarettes. *g*
* A customer thanked me profusely for paying attention to the fact that her credit card said "check ID" next to her signature.
* David Ortiz hit a three run homer. (Brief aside: Since Sunday, I have seen and heard so many homers that it is just ridiculous. I can't even begin to count them. It seems so disproportionate. Is it because the pitchers are still settling back into the routine? I'm not sure I like it. If you have an aeverage of, like, four homers a game, it cheapens them a lot. Homers should be exciting, not routine, and certainly not expected. I, probably because of my father's influence, am a fan of putting together runs the old-fashioned way: By getting plenty of HITS.)
* At least I missed the three runs Halama apparently gave up.
* The Tigers absolutely creamed the Indians, 11-1. Go Tigers! I think the Sox loss would have been easier to take if I'd been listening to the Tigers game instead. This is the second time a Tigers win has eased a Sox loss. Maybe I should move to Michigan.
* I have dried sweet potatoes. And ramen for later. No, not that Oodles of Noodles shit. Real ramen, with thick noodles and bean curd.
* I have Heineken.
So, the day sucked pretty hard, and when that happens, it's wise to remind yourself of the good things that happened. No day is all bad if you look hard enough. I know how nauseating that sounds, but sometimes things are both nauseating and true.
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