Confessions of a One-Track Mind

Yesterday was an odd sort of day. I'd slept pretty well the night before, and because it's on a nearly direct course between the C's and the causeway, I went and got a haircut on the way to work. Shed about half of it; the resultant coiffure is off my neck, and the best way I can think of to describe it is Pam Hollister hair. It's short, fluffy, does its own thing and everyone at work says it's cute.

Saw an amazing Pontiac from the 1930's---beautifully restored!---but didn't linger to check out the minute details, as it was raining. Hope some of it hit my begonias!

My desk has been moved AGAIN. Getting OLD, people...!

The news about Farrah, then MJ started spreading, but I can't talk about that yet.

I've been avoiding US1 construction after dark, but the route I've been using isn't compatible with my current destination---consequently, my blood pressure probably jumped about 30 points due to the VERY fucked-up state of the intersection of Barton and US1. I don't care for tons of yellow flashing lights and cones and redirected traffic, ESPECIALLY after dark, and this was a regular pinball machine.

Slept badly last night; couldn't seem to get comfortable and kept tossing and turning...finally passed out around 5AM. It wouldn't surprise me it if was a reaction to the muscle relaxers---I have the same problem with OTC meds for PM.

Right now, I just feel like crap and would just as soon not go anywhere. Bleh.

Today: Awakened by noise pollution. Work was mostly clueless people with complicated problems, though I *did* manage to place one sizable order that went through, yay me!

I couldn't get out of there fast enough, but it's rather a pity that I wasn't a minute or two later---then I would've missed being pulled over by the cop. (He caught me doing a rolling stop, and pulled me over a couple miles later after turning around and following me.) I knew it was coming when I saw him turn around...*I* know I'm a normal, law-abiding citizen, but the "Drive it like you stole it" bumper sticker may give the wrong impression. Anyway, I told him I work second shift in Melbourne, on my way home, avoiding the construction on US1, no, I haven't had any alcohol---yes sir, no sir, I'm really sorry about that, I *did* look both ways...he said my driving record was good and gave me a warning, not a ticket.

Luckily, I'm a conservative driver AND I saw he was back there, because my speedometer hasn't worked consistantly for about a year and a half. I just took it really easy and held my breath---and turned off the CD player before he turned on his lights, because blasting A/C-D/C probably wouldn't've helped my case either.

I'm gonna go watch Royal Pains and see if it's as good as last week.

It's been a while since I've cleaned up after a major holiday weekend, and I had forgotten just how much stupidity ensues. That said, if profanity makes you go blind, I strongly suggest you shield your eyes, because Tuesday was fairly hideous, enough that I came home and went straight to the Captain Morgan's, and I am a cheap drunk. 2 drink maximum and I am LOOSE.

Come on, how often do I hit the bottle? 2, maybe 3 times a year? If that? But today, nothing else was going to unknot that tension, at least nothing *I* have access to. There's no convenient SigOther to rub my back and call for pizza and cater to my every whim (in a loincloth plaid flannel shirt and jeans). I can't afford a weekend getaway or a day at the spa. This is it, me and the rum and diet Coke with Lime trying to release the homicidal fantasies I'm having about certain callers I encountered today.

Like the dunderhead from Nevada who called in on Brand X jeans, very indignant because we had the temerity to send them by way of the US Postal Service, who doesn't usually deliver to his residence; he has a PO Box. Most of the time when that happens, the USPS sends the package back to our warehouse as undeliverable. In this case, they forwarded it to his PO Box, and he was pissed that he'd had to shell out $6.05 out of his own pocket for postage due. There was more---a LOT more that I won't inflict upon you, my friends---but if I ever get my hands on that prick, I'm going to rip his tongue out and use it to wipe my ass. Screw you, asshole---I hope you get eaten by bears. Next time, if you want to get it at the house, get expedited shipping. Cheap fucker.

He was the piece de resistance, but there were more, too many to count, and I'm not going to try...breathe in, breathe out...had one cancelled order for White Trash Queen, ESL broad called in 4 minutes before my lunch about a 100+ item order that was cancelled because it was placed from outside the country. I explained this to her, repeatedly, and ended up 8 minutes late for lunch, which they monitor incessantly.

And the day started out so well! I had a shortish fic* that I sat down and pounded out in good time, would probably have posted it if I'd had another hour, but that's okay, tomorrow is soon enough, because I'm a wee bit too tipsy right now. I've been on a roll this month, writing-wise, and that's shiny, because I haven't felt that way in a while. But then I had to go to work. And was late getting out the door, because I had a reminder that my adventures in banking still needed to be dealt with. (Thank you, gracias, merci beaucoup, danke schoen and all that jazz, you know who you are!)

Zoomed down the road, running about 20 minutes late by my standards, was highly irritated by the fuckmook in the Ford Fucus** who was weaving in and out of traffic. (Car du jour was a Ford Fairlane circa 1963, not in prime condition, but neither am I at a similar age.) Then! As if I wasn't already grumbling, I got stuck behind a school bus! That stopped traffic behind it THREE times! ON US1, for fuck's sake!

It turned onto Post Rd, then, entering Melbourne, a miracle occurred: I had sequential green lights at Aurora Rd, Eau Gallie Blvd and Ixora. Holy wow. This has NEVER happened in the whole time I've been commuting. Not ever. Otherwise, it would've been cutting it way too close and being late when holiday pay is up for grabs is a Very Bad Thing.

If I'm not careful, I will go into a rabid rant about other Very Bad Things, like in-store only gift cards, syrupy hold-muzak versions of Every Breath You Take, Uber-Boss, some of the idjits who put our websites together, that sappy damned Pediasure commercial, the Gosselins---and all the rest of those fruitcakes on TLC with enough kids to populate a Third World country. Apparently it no longer takes a village---it takes a network! Enough already!

Good night!

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* Because I was going through stuff I TiVo'ed the other night. And rewatched Torchwood --- Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, which was the first ep I ever saw, and could appreciate it so much better now, and Captain John said something about he was laughing at Jack, and I just had this moment of epiphany: What if the Comedian was a Time Lord? It kind of morphed a bit in execution, but I've definitely got a yummy little crossover in the oven! (Working title: Putting the 'Fun' Back in Funeral.)

** W00t! Best drunken Freudian slip EVAR!

I named 47 US states in 10 minutes

I had a brain-fart and "lost" ( three states ) 10 minutes, and I spent the last three going, WTF am I missing?! Clearly, the mid-west is not my forte!

Got a very happy surprise from pwcorgigirl--- Jools fic! (Hot Jools fic, with a side of Tessa, yay!)

Have also encouraged a few more posters to share their stories with singer_salvage, which is up to 136 members. Wahoo!

Haven't lost my voice yet---although I came close on the way to work. To the bozo in the great big honking truck whose concept of "right of way" leaves A LOT to be desired, it's a damn good thing you crossed three lanes of traffic and hung a left after cutting in front of me on US 1 at Aurora---because if you'd been ahead of me in line when I got stuck at the light at Eau Gallie, I would've done a Chinese fire drill, come up there and smacked you upside the head. Idjit.

I'm not going to discuss work. I'll only start swearing. Tis the season.

I got undertime early yesterday, so I was able to attend the Haunted Sleepover at church---the whole thing. Which turned out to be something of an anticlimax, since there were only four other people there and the party broke up early instead of going on all night. Still, undertime---there's been very little of that lately, but the phones were fairly quiet, so...Miracle #1.

I hit the road just in time for the 5PM Friday rush. Oh, joy! It was bright and sunny when I got out of work, but just a few miles down the road, the sky was black. No hyperbole: The clouds north of Melbourne were dark with water.

Now, if you've joined this journal already in progress, let me confide that I've had some heavy-duty anxiety issues. The first couple of months, I had to nerve myself up just to drive to Melbourne---or home from same---regardless of the weather. If I hadn't been completely desperate for a job, I NEVER would've set myself up for that stress, because my comfort zone was about 3 miles square and I practically hid under the bed rather than drive in the rain---any rain!

There was a bit of drippy mist north of Eau Gallie, then it started seriously pissing down at Post Road---which means nothing to most of you, from from there to the Patrick Causeway, a distance of some 4-5 miles, it was all I could do to see the lines on the road and the cars ahead of and beside me. Didn't whimper or pull off to the shoulder, which I've been known to do when the weather scared me---nope, I gripped the wheel and did about 30 mph, and at that, I actually passed another car.

It trailed off just before the causeway, and the rest of the drive home rained lightly and intermittently. Considering that that would've once been impossible for me---without a full-scale freak-out, I'm looking at that as Miracle #2.

Tomorrow, Red is meeting me durng my lunch break and bringing me my belated birthday present: Iron Man: the DVD. Yay! Because RDJ falls within the parameters of a type I've gone for forever: dark hair and Bambi-brown bedroom eyes...just sayin'!

Oh, and I've had my first-ever request from someone who wants to post a translation of one of my stories: a Russian chick wants to do End Game. Mega-yay! An "international best-seller"!

So, I'm on my way to work, and I stop in at 7-11 for a sandwich for dinner. Come out. Get in car, car won't start. It's not a battery sound, it's not a starter sound, no, it's silent, which in my experience means the alternator is about to cost me money.

I called over to the C's, and discovered that G and her hub (also church members) were sheltering there, as their house has flooded---4 feet deep, according to her---and G-Hubby came out to collect me. He took me down to work so I could collect my check, deposit it at the bank, and brought me home. (Many thanks, adventurat, the Palm kept me entertained while I was sitting in the car waiting for Hub's arrival.)

There's no answer at Car Guy's. I feel a sense on lingering DOOM. What next, damn it?!

Dinner, I think. I'm going to splurge on pizza, which I've been craving for days, and spend the evening watching What Not to Wear and trying not to panic.

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Irony for today:

Virgo (8/23-9/22)
It's a great day for finalizing plans, especially if they are related to travel in any way. So go ahead and finalize your itinerary or sign any paperwork that needs to be signed. You're ready to go -- so let's get this show on the road! The era of uncertainty you've been struggling with is over -- and if any more information happens to come to light over the next few weeks, it shouldn't affect anything to any great degree. It's time to move forward decisively. (My Yahoo horoscope)

Tonight, I stopped for gas on the way home (it's gone up 20 cents a gallon since the last time I filled up---a week ago!), and as I finished and was squeegying my windshield, the train came through the crossing across the street.

Forthwith, I got into my trusty Honda and hit the highway, because paralleling the northbound train gets you green on all the left-hand traffic lights (which is most of them until you get to north Rockledge). I made good time, but was stymied when the light at Viera Blvd went red as I approached, until I glanced left and realized I'd outrun the train. I laughed for the next couple of miles and paced it carefully until I started getting caught by those right-hand triggered lights north of Eyester.

My timing was absolutely flawless, though, because I made the left onto King Street with the green and approached the tracks just in time to see the last car clatter past and the gates go up.

Such are the small victories of my daily commute!
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Tomorrow's post will have all the shiny details of the gem show---I'm quivering with eagerness, since it's been a very long time since I've had cash to properly pillage an event like this. Then lunch with AI, and GK is in town Sunday and Monday, so I have her delightful company to look forward to, although we haven't formalized plans yet. Probably a thrift store or three or four....