Wading through pre-work limbo. Too early to start getting ready, too late to actually do anything constructive with my time. You might not believe this, but I got another flat tire. The back right one, this time. I swear, man, we’ve had our spare on the car more than our real tires lately. Got my toilet fixed yesterday—it was doing that thing where it runs forever. Good times. Man, if it wasn’t for my tires going flat and my toilet doing strange things, I’m not sure I’d ever have anything to write about.
So yesterday was a long day, full of mundane misadventures (changing tires, letting the maintenance guy in to fix the toilet, all kinds of stuff like that). My job was closed on Easter Sunday, so yesterday there was a massive build-up of moronic customers that needed a place to unleash their stupidity. All day long, man. It seems like management expected this, because they propped open the front doors (in one of my back-entries, I mentioned that customers are generally too brain-dead to get through a door unless it opens for them—several of my co-workers have commented on this odd phenomenon since then).
By the time I got home last night, I stayed awake long enough to make a roast beef sandwich and watch the tail end of Letterman. I went to sleep and had strange dreams that I was still at work, but the doors were closed, and the customers were all INSIDE. They were trapped because the doors wouldn’t open, and every time I tried to go open the doors, a customer would stop me: “Sir! Sir! I need some help here!” So I would walk back to the counter and say something like, “What can I do for you?” And they would say, “That front door doesn’t open, and I can’t get out.”
“Yes,” I would say, “I was just on my way to open it.”
“It doesn’t open. I stood there for five minutes, and nothing happened.”
“I’ll open it right now.” And then I would go to open the door, and someone else would stop me. This went on forever, man. And then I noticed that it was snowing outside, and I realized that I had been locked up with these idiots all through the spring, summer, and fall.
It was a terrible nightmare. Have you ever dreamed that you had a spider in your bed? And then you wake up, and even though you kind of know it was a dream, you still panic, and jump out of bed. You turn on the light and look through, just to make sure that there isn’t really a spider in there, and it still kind of sucks to crawl back under the blankets, because maybe that spider really is in there? That’s sort of how I was when I woke up, like thinking I had lost almost a year of my life, locked up with stupid.
I made some coffee, checked the date on my cell phone, and calmed down a bit.
What happened to the good old days of childhood, where you had quality nightmares about vampires or zombies or your parents abandoning you?