For the past week, I have only been sleeping in three hour intervals. Work from 10pm to 7am. Come home. Sleep from 10am to 1pm. Wake up. Hang out with Steve and fall asleep from 3pm and wake up at 7pm while Steve sleeps until 9. It's just been cut and go. Steve sleeps like a rock when he sleeps. I can't stay down during the day. Oh, there's a scratch on the door. Oh, someone's coming home. Oh, the sun is unusually brighter today than yesterday. Oh, someone's watching a movie in the living room. All these little things wake me up. While Steve just cruises on through them.
So this weekend was catch-up, right? Friday, Steve had to work. He was asked to come in and do overtime. So he did. I drove him to work and told him to call me to pick him up. He called at 2am after I'd gone to bed at 11pm. Another three hours. Somehow, all the cards in his wallet fell out and he wanted to buy lunch. So I got up to deliver his cards to him. As I was leaving, I heard Steve and Brandy from their bedroom say, "She's awake. She's leaving. Ask her."
They stop me as I'm exiting my room. "Maaaaaac? We were wondering if you could take us to Walmart."
I was shocked, "At two o'clock in the morning?"
"Pleeeease? He's drunk as shit and he needs work pants for tomorrow."
I was confused, but I mean, I was heading there anyways. So I agree and they all follow me to Walmart. I get to Walmart and give Steve his cards and have lunch/breakfast/dinner with him. The other two go about shopping at two in the morning. Eventually, Steve's lunch is over and it's time to head home. I grab Steve and Brandy and head out. We're driving home and Steve shouts, "WHAT ABOUT MCDONALD'S?!" I ask what about McDonald's. He says, "That's what the deal was. I'd buy you food for driving us here!"
"But I'm not hungry."
"GO TO MCDONALD'S!"
So I drive to McDonald's. No one's answering the drive-thru. We drive up to the window after waiting a couple minutes. There's people in there, but they're ignoring us. Finally a man comes up to us and I ask if they're still open. He told me they're resetting for breakfast. Brandy is having like a mini-fit over int he passenger sit and I thank the man and drive away. So now we go to Burger King. We order our stuff and then pull up to the window. All Brandy has is a $100 bill. I look at her and say, "You're making me the most hated person to drive-up windows, aren't you?" So I hand the man a $100 and he says he can't break it. I look back at everyone and he says, "Hang on," and takes the $100 and goes back. He returns and give us $21.73 in change. I look at the change knowing this was wrong, but double checking in my brain so I don't look like an idiot and ask for more change back and actually be wrong.
I hand the money to Brandy and she doesn't say anything... after a minute, I mention, "Don't you need more change than that?"
She goes, "Oh my god! I can't believe he shorted me this much!"
Steve in the back seat goes, "THAT'S IT!" and he gets out of the car. Brandy gets out of the car and starts screaming at him. Finally they both get back in the car and the guy comes back and we bring it to his attention. He was embarrassed and gave us the correct change and our food. Finally we left and we went home. Well I ate my Burger King and was on the computer. Once I get on the computer, I'm kind of here for a while. So I was on the computer until about 6. Then Steve called at 7. I woke up and picked Steve up and came back home. We showered and prepared to go to this breakfast in the park.
About a week ago, some kids stopped by our house and asked if we wanted to buy tickets sponsoring little league. I bought a ticket from each kid. A couple days later, another kid came by and was selling tickets. So I bought some. By the time I was all done buying tickets, I had 6. So we invited everyone to breakfast with us. So Steve and I were trying to go to breakfast. I texted everyone and only Mike responded. So Mike, Steve, and I all went to breakfast. Not only that, but that day was the day of the Rapture. So I brought a set of clothes to leave in the park as if someone had been raptured. We ate breakfast and laid our clothes out and left to the comic book store. Oh the hours I could spend there. Finally we ended up driving home and going to sleep. Except we play D&D at 4. So we only slept for about another 3 hours.
We gamed until 8 and finally went to sleep. I've pretty much been asleep since. So that goes to say, I am well rested. For once. And now I have to go back to work tonight and head off to the doctor's tomorrow. So I suppose I'll finish cooking dinner for Steve and head off to work.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Shouldn't be long now
Tonight will be my third night on overnights. My sleep schedule is still adjusting. As to Steve who can sleep through anything, I wake up to the slightest noises... in which there's a lot during the day. Maggie's scratching the door, someone's coming in the house, Steve snores a bit too loudly once or twice, etc. But I've been doing okay. I sleep pretty heavy in the mornings.
Overnights is... different. As I was told it would be. I can pick really well and I'm not too bad at binning. Everyone has their own shortcuts and secrets and instead of showing me, they just shove me out of the way and do it themselves. I realize we're on a schedule, but it can't make that much of an impact in time to show me how they're doing it and to teach me.
I hope I'll be able to get used to the routine and deal with it. I should be able to catch on quickly. It's about time to wake up Steve, however.
Overnights is... different. As I was told it would be. I can pick really well and I'm not too bad at binning. Everyone has their own shortcuts and secrets and instead of showing me, they just shove me out of the way and do it themselves. I realize we're on a schedule, but it can't make that much of an impact in time to show me how they're doing it and to teach me.
I hope I'll be able to get used to the routine and deal with it. I should be able to catch on quickly. It's about time to wake up Steve, however.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Busy, busy, busy
I didn't forget about my blog, but things have been hectic.
I'll try to blog again, I promise.
I'll try to blog again, I promise.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
You Ain't My Drama
Oh, god. That was a terrible title... but it kind of made me giggle. Anyways, This Sunday night, I finally go to overnights! After waiting for so long. I didn't mind working days, but now that Steve and I have the same schedule, things are going to get a whole lot easier. Really, nothing exciting has gone on in my life recently. My roomates' lives... now that's a different story.
So, Steve (my roommate not my boyfriend), finds out he's still legally married to his "ex" wife. Brandy bought a dog. It's not here yet, but I assume it won't be long till it's here. Also Steve got in trouble at work and is home for a few days to "think about his attitude". So I'm always coming home and there's roommate Steve.... right there. It's like... Oh. Hi.
Other than that... umm.... My paycheck this week (tomorrow) is going to be AMAZING. Full-time hours + $1.50 raise from my last pay rate = A LOT OF MONIES!!!! So excited for my paycheck. Of course, I'm putting $500 away for my dumb car payment and dumb registration aaand I gotta pay off my credit card, but still... I should have a good chunk left over. And that's not counting the second check I get this month and since I already put my money away toward things that NEED to be paid... I'll have just a random $600. I'll probably save most of it though.
So there's that. I'm extremely tired though. I think I shall go to sleep.
So, Steve (my roommate not my boyfriend), finds out he's still legally married to his "ex" wife. Brandy bought a dog. It's not here yet, but I assume it won't be long till it's here. Also Steve got in trouble at work and is home for a few days to "think about his attitude". So I'm always coming home and there's roommate Steve.... right there. It's like... Oh. Hi.
Other than that... umm.... My paycheck this week (tomorrow) is going to be AMAZING. Full-time hours + $1.50 raise from my last pay rate = A LOT OF MONIES!!!! So excited for my paycheck. Of course, I'm putting $500 away for my dumb car payment and dumb registration aaand I gotta pay off my credit card, but still... I should have a good chunk left over. And that's not counting the second check I get this month and since I already put my money away toward things that NEED to be paid... I'll have just a random $600. I'll probably save most of it though.
So there's that. I'm extremely tired though. I think I shall go to sleep.
Monday, May 9, 2011
I was asked anonymously today if I worked out
I finally had some time to sit back and think of a proper response to this rather than people asking me while I check them out (as a cashier!) and focus primarily on getting them through line and not my answer.
Here's my post:
Anonymous 
Here's my post:
do you lift weights or something?
your arms are quite strong looking.
your arms are quite strong looking.
AnonymousI don't actually. I am very very very toned and that's due to a a very rare genetic disorder I have. It's called lipodistrophy. About 1 in 3 million people have it. I've been coming more and more to terms with it. I hated looking the way I do. Being confused for as a man or constantly being asked if I was a crossdresser. But I've grown to love myself. Here's a photo of my arms and legs that I literally JUST took:
My obliques, pectorals, lower back, glutes, and quads are all the same way. The way the disorder works is that it takes the fats in my body and either burns them or puts them all in specific places rather than just around. My fats ONLY go to my face, neck, upper back, and inside my liver. So if you notice from pictures, my face is actually quite round a slightly chubby and you may notice a double chin if I don't hide it correctly. My upper back is definitely fatty, but not so much as to give me a hump back such as others who have my disorder are unfortunate enough to get. I have about 7% body fat. So when internet trolls try and call me fat... I honestly know that I am not... in that sense anyways. Actually, if you "google" "Mackenzie Dunn"... that's me... you will see this photo as one of the first photos on there:
This photo captures the trues essence of my disorder. Look at my face. Completely chubby including a double chin. But the rest of my body is insanely fit.
The reason you can find me on google search so easily is that I hold 7 state track records in the state of Nevada and am slightly famous to the high school sports world when it involves Western (specifically Nevada, but other states are aware of me as well) schools.
Through track, I have been tested for steroids, other drug abuse, observed on my daily routines as in work outs (in which I've never worked out a day in my life), and I've also been test to prove if I was the correct sex I claimed to be.
Did you know that some people who appear to be female, can actually be a hermaphrodite? The testicles actually are lodged deep within the vagina of the hermaphrodite. They are usually up close to where the ovaries may be. Did you know that a doctor's finger is the only cheap and less hectic way to determine if you have so question testicles or not? Because I sure do. I was 12. I am 100% female.
You may ask how I know so much about this disease if it's so rare. Well, my aunts on my father's side called me up when I was about 16. They have what I have as well except my case is much more dominant than what they appear to have. They found... or perhaps the doctors found them... but as is, these special doctors from Dallas, Texas who study at the Southwestern University of Texas got a hold of me through my aunts and pay for me to fly down from Northern Nevada every three months so they can study me. I would lie in a hospital bed for about three weeks as they drained blood out of me and ran all sorts of tests on me. I would encounter numerous MRI's and other torturous tests such as water submersion in which they collect my weight under water... I can't swim nor hold my head underwater without plugging my nose without choking. This is due to me drowning three times in my life and growing a severe fear of water... but anyways... they would fly me down every three months for two years. So I learned quite a bit about it. There's still so many unanswered questions. I did learn that I can never take birth control (other than condoms and whatnot). I have a high testosterone level and when we first were trying to figure out things, most hormone specialists were like, "GET THAT GIRL SOME ESTROGEN!" Only later, did I find out that estrogen is lethal to me. Estrogen produces fats. When your body is given estrogen in which your body is not creating... your body accepts the unknown fats as their own. My body would send those fats straight to my liver and shorten my life than what already is. Note* My life actually isn't shortened by much. My life expectancy is till about 60 or so before I die of diabetes complications. That's what the fats do. They cause diabetes. Untreatable diabetes. Even through diet and insulin shots, but it's a very slow ride. So I'm not allowed to have estrogen. I have a period only once every two years. This may sound really nice and trust me, I don't take it for granted... but a period is very good for the woman's body. I'm missing out on vital things that need to be done when a period occurs. Not only that, I'll never know when I miss a period. I say once every two years, but that is an estimate. To be honest... it occurs pretty much whenever the hell it feels like it and my periods often last three months or one day. Never anymore than one day or less than three months... however they have lasted longer than three months. Because of my high testosterone level as well, I grow facial hair. Luckily nothing like a full mustache or beard, but it is noticeable scruff under my chin if I don't have my biweekly waxing. Because of the lack of period and the possibility of rare ovulation, I don't think I can bear children either, but that's just my own assumption.
On top of EVERYTHING in which I just told you, I have a 3 inch achilis tenant. While you and most of all your friends have a 6 inch achilis tenant to hold up your regular sized leg muscles... my 3 inches are fighting so hard to hold everything I have against it. They're on the verge of snapping. I've been in physical therapy since I was 7 years old... constantly stretching and working with my legs. When I first joined physical therapy, they gave me these boots I had to wear at night. They straightened my feet out. They hurt so badly. Now you try to convince a 7 year old to keep these horrible pain delivering contraptions strapped to their feet and tell them to go to sleep and not to push the simple little button that will release the straps and she can sleep freely without pain. As it goes to say, I never slept with them on.
Because of track, however, I was able to stay in physical therapy for free because they took care of the sports teams as their donation to the school. I've been in track since I was 12. So we only paid 5 years of physical therapy.
I still fight with my legs every day to not buckle underneath me when I get out of bed. You may have experience shinsplints in your life. I experience them every second of every day to where they really don't bother me anymore. I suffer from softball size cramps on the ball of my calf or more often on the ball of my feet, which hurts 1000 times more. When I get shinsplints ON TOP of my shinsplints, I'm brought to tears. Which actually is a hard thing to do on a physical level and a personal emotional level. I'll cry if someone's cat gets run over, but if you hurt my feelings, you often won't see it. People can pinch me until I bleed and I won't feel a thing. So you must imagine the immense amount of pain that I go through daily.
I'm not trying to make this a pity post about me, I'm simply posting the complete and utter truth about my disorder and how it effects me. It effects my life almost every day on so many different levels. To have a coach from another team scream at your face that you're a "fucking liar. You're not a fucking girl. There's no way. I swear she has a penis." and to have people constantly ask you how you have the confidence to go around such a small town as this dressed in drag, but always add that I pull it off so great that it's really hard to tell.... listening to all of this while my "strong" legs are weakening and can barely hold me up throughout the day, but when I race and see the faces on all those people who are shocked to hell how toned and how fast I am...
I honestly will never be able to truly explain my life to you in words or in writing and you'll never truly be able to understand, but that goes for you too. I probably will never be able to understand your life either despite how simple or extraordinaire it may be.
Through track, I have been tested for steroids, other drug abuse, observed on my daily routines as in work outs (in which I've never worked out a day in my life), and I've also been test to prove if I was the correct sex I claimed to be.
Did you know that some people who appear to be female, can actually be a hermaphrodite? The testicles actually are lodged deep within the vagina of the hermaphrodite. They are usually up close to where the ovaries may be. Did you know that a doctor's finger is the only cheap and less hectic way to determine if you have so question testicles or not? Because I sure do. I was 12. I am 100% female.
You may ask how I know so much about this disease if it's so rare. Well, my aunts on my father's side called me up when I was about 16. They have what I have as well except my case is much more dominant than what they appear to have. They found... or perhaps the doctors found them... but as is, these special doctors from Dallas, Texas who study at the Southwestern University of Texas got a hold of me through my aunts and pay for me to fly down from Northern Nevada every three months so they can study me. I would lie in a hospital bed for about three weeks as they drained blood out of me and ran all sorts of tests on me. I would encounter numerous MRI's and other torturous tests such as water submersion in which they collect my weight under water... I can't swim nor hold my head underwater without plugging my nose without choking. This is due to me drowning three times in my life and growing a severe fear of water... but anyways... they would fly me down every three months for two years. So I learned quite a bit about it. There's still so many unanswered questions. I did learn that I can never take birth control (other than condoms and whatnot). I have a high testosterone level and when we first were trying to figure out things, most hormone specialists were like, "GET THAT GIRL SOME ESTROGEN!" Only later, did I find out that estrogen is lethal to me. Estrogen produces fats. When your body is given estrogen in which your body is not creating... your body accepts the unknown fats as their own. My body would send those fats straight to my liver and shorten my life than what already is. Note* My life actually isn't shortened by much. My life expectancy is till about 60 or so before I die of diabetes complications. That's what the fats do. They cause diabetes. Untreatable diabetes. Even through diet and insulin shots, but it's a very slow ride. So I'm not allowed to have estrogen. I have a period only once every two years. This may sound really nice and trust me, I don't take it for granted... but a period is very good for the woman's body. I'm missing out on vital things that need to be done when a period occurs. Not only that, I'll never know when I miss a period. I say once every two years, but that is an estimate. To be honest... it occurs pretty much whenever the hell it feels like it and my periods often last three months or one day. Never anymore than one day or less than three months... however they have lasted longer than three months. Because of my high testosterone level as well, I grow facial hair. Luckily nothing like a full mustache or beard, but it is noticeable scruff under my chin if I don't have my biweekly waxing. Because of the lack of period and the possibility of rare ovulation, I don't think I can bear children either, but that's just my own assumption.
On top of EVERYTHING in which I just told you, I have a 3 inch achilis tenant. While you and most of all your friends have a 6 inch achilis tenant to hold up your regular sized leg muscles... my 3 inches are fighting so hard to hold everything I have against it. They're on the verge of snapping. I've been in physical therapy since I was 7 years old... constantly stretching and working with my legs. When I first joined physical therapy, they gave me these boots I had to wear at night. They straightened my feet out. They hurt so badly. Now you try to convince a 7 year old to keep these horrible pain delivering contraptions strapped to their feet and tell them to go to sleep and not to push the simple little button that will release the straps and she can sleep freely without pain. As it goes to say, I never slept with them on.
Because of track, however, I was able to stay in physical therapy for free because they took care of the sports teams as their donation to the school. I've been in track since I was 12. So we only paid 5 years of physical therapy.
I still fight with my legs every day to not buckle underneath me when I get out of bed. You may have experience shinsplints in your life. I experience them every second of every day to where they really don't bother me anymore. I suffer from softball size cramps on the ball of my calf or more often on the ball of my feet, which hurts 1000 times more. When I get shinsplints ON TOP of my shinsplints, I'm brought to tears. Which actually is a hard thing to do on a physical level and a personal emotional level. I'll cry if someone's cat gets run over, but if you hurt my feelings, you often won't see it. People can pinch me until I bleed and I won't feel a thing. So you must imagine the immense amount of pain that I go through daily.
I'm not trying to make this a pity post about me, I'm simply posting the complete and utter truth about my disorder and how it effects me. It effects my life almost every day on so many different levels. To have a coach from another team scream at your face that you're a "fucking liar. You're not a fucking girl. There's no way. I swear she has a penis." and to have people constantly ask you how you have the confidence to go around such a small town as this dressed in drag, but always add that I pull it off so great that it's really hard to tell.... listening to all of this while my "strong" legs are weakening and can barely hold me up throughout the day, but when I race and see the faces on all those people who are shocked to hell how toned and how fast I am...
I honestly will never be able to truly explain my life to you in words or in writing and you'll never truly be able to understand, but that goes for you too. I probably will never be able to understand your life either despite how simple or extraordinaire it may be.
Crazy Shit My Boyfriend Says When He's Half Asleep
I'm going to introduce a new segment to my blog called, "Crazy Shit My Boyfriend Says When He's Half Asleep!"
*applause sign blinks*
Thank you! Thank you!
As I've quoted myself on almost every social networking site I can think of because the line was that golden and that accurate, trying to wake up my boyfriend is like trying to wake up a Snorlax without using a pokeflute. Don't understand pokemon? Well the thing is, you can't wake up Snorlax and get his fat ass out of your way unless you use a pokeflut. So pretty much, you can't wake him up. See how my simile is working here now? But sometimes, I can get him awake to say some craaaaaaazy things. Here are some examples of the ones I can remember from the moment he started saying such things:
From Last Night:
“We throw glasses on the car.”
“You know… sunglasses. You know, it’s like a thank you for test driving and we give them sunglasses… or…. what do we give them here?”
“No, it makes perfect sense. Like, dealerships like to give their potential customer’s something…”
“Baby, don’t write this down.”
The Other Day:Steve: Baby, don’t talk too loud. The fox will hear you.
Me: What fox?
Steve: The fox in the room.
Me: (Deciding to play along) You mean, the Fox in the box?
Steve: Yeah. The Twenty-Gallon box. (He points to the box in which the 20 gallon fish tank came out of and then his face and voice became very grave) He doesn’t like the fish decor though.
Couple Weeks Ago:Steve: I’m trying to get you some airtime.
Me: What do you mean ‘airtime’?
Steve: On the radio. (He’s a radio advertisement salesman)
Me: What am I going to put on the radio?
Steve: Well what do you have to offer?
The First Occurrence:
Steve: Baby, hide behind the radio!
Me: What radio?
Steve: Just get behind the radio, I’ll take care of this.
Usually the day after or a while afterwards, I'll ask him what he was really meaning. He doesn't remember anything. Absolutely nothing. He refuses to believe he's ever said such things. Now he may just be screwing with me, but if so, he's very committed and he's very good at coming up with crazy nonsense (which believe it or not, is harder than it sounds).
So this was the first blog post on "Crazy Shit My Boyfriend Says When He's Half Asleep". I'm sure there will be more to come. I write them down as he spews off his craziness to me, so hopefully I can convert them onto the computer or remind myself to convert them onto the computer.
Thanks for tuning in, folks!
*applause sign blinks*
Thank you! Thank you!
As I've quoted myself on almost every social networking site I can think of because the line was that golden and that accurate, trying to wake up my boyfriend is like trying to wake up a Snorlax without using a pokeflute. Don't understand pokemon? Well the thing is, you can't wake up Snorlax and get his fat ass out of your way unless you use a pokeflut. So pretty much, you can't wake him up. See how my simile is working here now? But sometimes, I can get him awake to say some craaaaaaazy things. Here are some examples of the ones I can remember from the moment he started saying such things:
From Last Night:
“We throw glasses on the car.”
“You know… sunglasses. You know, it’s like a thank you for test driving and we give them sunglasses… or…. what do we give them here?”
“No, it makes perfect sense. Like, dealerships like to give their potential customer’s something…”
“Baby, don’t write this down.”
The Other Day:Steve: Baby, don’t talk too loud. The fox will hear you.
Me: What fox?
Steve: The fox in the room.
Me: (Deciding to play along) You mean, the Fox in the box?
Steve: Yeah. The Twenty-Gallon box. (He points to the box in which the 20 gallon fish tank came out of and then his face and voice became very grave) He doesn’t like the fish decor though.
Couple Weeks Ago:Steve: I’m trying to get you some airtime.
Me: What do you mean ‘airtime’?
Steve: On the radio. (He’s a radio advertisement salesman)
Me: What am I going to put on the radio?
Steve: Well what do you have to offer?
The First Occurrence:
Steve: Baby, hide behind the radio!
Me: What radio?
Steve: Just get behind the radio, I’ll take care of this.
Usually the day after or a while afterwards, I'll ask him what he was really meaning. He doesn't remember anything. Absolutely nothing. He refuses to believe he's ever said such things. Now he may just be screwing with me, but if so, he's very committed and he's very good at coming up with crazy nonsense (which believe it or not, is harder than it sounds).
So this was the first blog post on "Crazy Shit My Boyfriend Says When He's Half Asleep". I'm sure there will be more to come. I write them down as he spews off his craziness to me, so hopefully I can convert them onto the computer or remind myself to convert them onto the computer.
Thanks for tuning in, folks!
Why do Tommy and the High Pilots hate everyone under the age of 21?
Okay, I know for a fact that they don't hate anyone under the age of 21. Well, they might, but that's not because of their age. Probably some other reason, but they just announced the tours new shows and all the ones I can reach are 21+. I'm truly upset about this. I've seen Tommy and the High Pilots once every tour and now I won't see them on this one. They recognize me by face and name. They know who I am and keep in touch. And here I am, unable to go watch one of their shows. Oh well, I suppose. I'd have to miss one eventually and here it is.
Today, at work, Deb came up to me and she says, "Now, I don't want to put you under pressure, but I've been talking to Myron." My mind races at a thousand miles a minute thinking of the things she could have said to the store manager. She continues, "I've been talking up a storm about you and he's extremely happy to have you on BIT now. He looks to you for everything when I'm not around. So I've been boosting your name around here a lot and labeled you as my prodigy... so you may have a title to live up to."
I stare at her blankly and she holds a grin back. I grab both her shoulders and begin to shake her screaming, "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
I was joking of course, but there was some truth behind my screams of terror. I'm glad she thinks I'm such a great worker, but she talked me up so much to the boss, that when I screw up... it's gonna be noticed. I screw up a lot... every day. Oh the weight that has been thrown on my shoulders. Only time can tell how well I'll be able to adapt.
But, Lunch is now over and I must return back to work. I gotta live up to everyone's expectations now. I'm about to get quizzed about what I know when I get back. So here goes nothing, right?
Also, here's another photo of a cat.
Today, at work, Deb came up to me and she says, "Now, I don't want to put you under pressure, but I've been talking to Myron." My mind races at a thousand miles a minute thinking of the things she could have said to the store manager. She continues, "I've been talking up a storm about you and he's extremely happy to have you on BIT now. He looks to you for everything when I'm not around. So I've been boosting your name around here a lot and labeled you as my prodigy... so you may have a title to live up to."
I stare at her blankly and she holds a grin back. I grab both her shoulders and begin to shake her screaming, "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
I was joking of course, but there was some truth behind my screams of terror. I'm glad she thinks I'm such a great worker, but she talked me up so much to the boss, that when I screw up... it's gonna be noticed. I screw up a lot... every day. Oh the weight that has been thrown on my shoulders. Only time can tell how well I'll be able to adapt.
But, Lunch is now over and I must return back to work. I gotta live up to everyone's expectations now. I'm about to get quizzed about what I know when I get back. So here goes nothing, right?
Also, here's another photo of a cat.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
HOSPITALity
Where did I last leave you? Oh yes! The first visit to the hospital. Wait, did I say first visit to the hospital? Yes, yes I did. You see, the next day, I went home and pretty much relaxed with Steve. Since I didn't have to work for the next three days, I could pretty much adjust my schedule to Steve's for the weekend.
But Brandy... Brandy comes out of the room an requests I take her and Steve to the hospital. This time, it was Steve. His tooth had hurt so badly that it had started to cause his face to swell. I agreed to take her and woke Steve up begging him come along. He tagged along and slept on my lap the whole night. I was in the waiting room when Natalie come out. I didn't recognize her. Natalie is one of the overnight BIT members I'll be working with and a very good friend of Steve's. She sits down and starts to talk to me while Steve is completely passed out on my lap. Apparently, she fell off a ladder at work and has a serious concussion. I talked with her a little bit longer and then her ride came and I was once again, alone in the waiting room. Only this time, the TV was turned on to Disney, and I had Steve's hair to play with while he slept.
Eventually they emerged from the emergency room doors and we left and finally Steve and I had absolutely nothing to do, so we just relaxed and watched movies all day. Today, I had to meet up with that coach from Feather River. He was really awesome and nice. I wouldn't mind running for him at all, if I wanted to run that is. People tell me it's wasted talent, I tell them that I don't give a shit. I was once told, "Just because you're hung like a horse, doesn't mean you have to do porn." So it makes sense to me. Then, Steve and I bought some hair dye food and we came home and Steve made me food. I asked Dan to dye my hair (because apparently he does it quite often and is fairly good at it). Before I could have Dan dye my hair though, Steve got a phone call from Natalie. She was at the hospital and they wouldn't let her drive home. So we had to come pick her up. We picked her up and she was starving because she'd been throwing up all week. So we went to Wendy's where the drive-thru was closed for Mother's Day... seriously? WTF? So it took us forever to get our food inside and then we drove to her house and dropped her off and came home. I put Steve to bed and had Dan dye my hair.
So I had four days off from work and spent three of them at the hospital. How about that?
But Brandy... Brandy comes out of the room an requests I take her and Steve to the hospital. This time, it was Steve. His tooth had hurt so badly that it had started to cause his face to swell. I agreed to take her and woke Steve up begging him come along. He tagged along and slept on my lap the whole night. I was in the waiting room when Natalie come out. I didn't recognize her. Natalie is one of the overnight BIT members I'll be working with and a very good friend of Steve's. She sits down and starts to talk to me while Steve is completely passed out on my lap. Apparently, she fell off a ladder at work and has a serious concussion. I talked with her a little bit longer and then her ride came and I was once again, alone in the waiting room. Only this time, the TV was turned on to Disney, and I had Steve's hair to play with while he slept.
Eventually they emerged from the emergency room doors and we left and finally Steve and I had absolutely nothing to do, so we just relaxed and watched movies all day. Today, I had to meet up with that coach from Feather River. He was really awesome and nice. I wouldn't mind running for him at all, if I wanted to run that is. People tell me it's wasted talent, I tell them that I don't give a shit. I was once told, "Just because you're hung like a horse, doesn't mean you have to do porn." So it makes sense to me. Then, Steve and I bought some hair dye food and we came home and Steve made me food. I asked Dan to dye my hair (because apparently he does it quite often and is fairly good at it). Before I could have Dan dye my hair though, Steve got a phone call from Natalie. She was at the hospital and they wouldn't let her drive home. So we had to come pick her up. We picked her up and she was starving because she'd been throwing up all week. So we went to Wendy's where the drive-thru was closed for Mother's Day... seriously? WTF? So it took us forever to get our food inside and then we drove to her house and dropped her off and came home. I put Steve to bed and had Dan dye my hair.
So I had four days off from work and spent three of them at the hospital. How about that?
Friday, May 6, 2011
More photos of cats
Perhaps if I complain enough about it and keep posting photos of cats and Steve runs across it, he'll decided to get me a kitty! Here I come Galileo Galilei!
Fisherman Tales and Adventures
She's in pain. She's told us before that she has chronic cramps. She's still in pain. She won't stop complaining. My roommate looks to me and asks for a ride to the hospital. I swear it's just cramps, she's just over exaggerating it, but what do you say to someone who asks you to take them to the hospital? No? So I agree. I plan to just drop her off, but apparently she had a different plan. She wanted me to stay and not abandon her and her husband at the hospital. So, I bring my book, phone, and iPod to entertain me.
They enter the backroom after about a half hour's wait and I sit upon my couch I claimed as my own and read my book only to find that I'm not fond of the writing style or story in the least bit. A waste of eight dollars I think to myself. I get through probably five chapters before I pull out my iPod and try to access the hospital's internet. That doesn't work either. I decide to pull out my phone. Minimal phone service. This was going to be a long night. Throughout the course of the next two hours, I tweet to twitter with the minimal phone service I have in full frustration when each message generally takes three to four tries before it finally sends out. Nothing interesting happens until a man walks in and the receptionist asks if he needs help. He seems to be at war with himself about something and the woman asks his name. He mutters off something unintelligible. She asks for his last name and he blurts out, "THOMPSON!" She gestures him to sit down and do some paperwork. The man takes a seat. At this time, I notice it's11:30 in which it's Steve's break and I call him not wanting to fight with my phone with text messaging and I go out to my car for better service.
I talked with him about nothing pretty much to pass the time until he has to go back to work, in which he eventually did. Upset to go back to boredom, I drag myself into the hospital once again. Only this time, there sat a man in a wheel chair next to my seat. He had a fishing pole and tackle box. The man who had previously came in was now escorted by two policemen who sat next to him on the chairs across from me. I look around. There's no one else, but me, the two cops, the man with a fishing pole, and two receptionist behind protective glass.
Confused, I return to my seat, relatively close to the man with the fishing pole. The man looks at the cops and asks, "Where you gonna take me?"
One cop looks back confused and says, "We're not going to take you anywhere, sir."
The man replies, "You gonna wheel me out into the cold?"
The cop shakes his head and says, "No, Sir. We're here for him," and points to the man who had come in earlier.
The man with the fishing pole now seems to ramble off to himself about things and we all ignore him. A doctor briskly walks out of the emergency room doors and to the man sitting across from me between the two policemen.
"Why are you trying to kill yourself today?"
The man has a slight twitch and says, "Things are getting bad. I can't stand living there anymore."
"With your mother?"
"She's crazy. She's a bitch. I can't stand it. I can't fucking stand it."
"It can't be that bad now. How do you plan to kill yourself?"
"I have ways."
"How?"
"You'll find out when you find me dead."
"Tell me, really, what do you plan to do?"
"I have pills. Lots of pills. I'll take them all."
"Well, you know what. I don't think you'll do it. Now go home." The doctor turns a complete 180 on his heels and speeds back behind the emergency doors. One cop looks to the other and says, "Are we done here? Do we need to do anything else?"
The other replies, "I suppose we can leave now. Let's get him out of here."
I'm sitting there terrified. This man who is planning to commit suicide was told he probably wouldn't do it. I'm assuming the man now thinks he was issued a challenge. Challenge accepted. The one officer gets up and takes the man outside while the other is grabbing things to leave. The fisherman in the wheel chair yells out again, "Where are you gonna take me? Huh?"
Hospital security now walks by and the officer looks up to him and says, "What's his problem?"
Security responds, "What do you mean?"
"Well, he keeps asking me where I'm going to take him."
Security shrugs and looks at the fisherman. "Are you here for medical help?"
"WHERE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME?" the fisherman screams out.
The cop looks at security and asks, "Would you like me to get him out of here."
The receptionists all nod and security gestures for him to do his job. The officer goes towards the man and tells him he needs to leave the property. The fisherman begs for a minute as the officer agrees. You can tell he is getting impatient though because the fisherman seems to be doing nothing. Finally he has enough and puts a hand on his shoulder. The fisherman plants his butt firmly in his wheelchair. He asks to borrow a coat. The cop tells him he has no spare jacket. The fisherman looks at me and my eyes get wide and I shake my head. Had I not been wearing Steve's jacket, I may have contemplating giving him my coat, but it was not my coat to give. He begs for a blanket. The cop explains how he has no blanket and one of the receptionists offers to give him a blanket. She retrieves the blanket and hands it to the man. The officer now forces him out of the wheel chair and takes him outside.
Finally feeling secure that the crazies are gone, I open my shitty book back up to begin reading. About twenty minutes after the police leave, the fisherman comes wondering back in. The police are now gone. The receptionist pulls up the desk phone and calls for security. Security arrives shortly after and escorts him outside in which only a half hour later, he returns. He comes through the door and the hefty security guard puffs up.
"Can I use the bathroom, please?"
The security guard relaxes slightly and says, "Certainly, sir!"
"How long do I have? A minute? Two minutes? Five?"
"Well, you're not going to camp in there, so you don't have long."
The fisherman hurries along into the bathroom and the security guard looks at me. "How long would you give him?"
I laugh slightly and say, "Three minutes and forty-two seconds."
The guard checks his watch and says, "You got it!"
After some time, the guard checks the restroom. I'm not sure what happens, but he comes back out and doesn't say anything. I try to entertain myself once again since the excitement has dispersed. With no success, I still find myself completely bored. Finally, the bathroom door opens and the fisherman exits. He sits up at the receptionist window and she asks how to help him.
"I dropped my blanket in the toilet. It's all wet. Will I be able to get a new one?"
"Sir, I already gave you one blanket. We're not even really supposed to give out the blankets to non-patients. I made an exception for you. How can you ask of me to get you another blanket now?"
He begs for another blanket and she calls for security in which the burly security officer shows back up. He tells the man he has to leave and escorts him outside. About ten minutes after he is escorted outside, Steve, Brandy's husband comes out of the emergency doors to go outside for a smoke and asks me to join him. Not for a smoke of course, but for company. I agree and head out into the freezing cold winds.
We stand out there and he takes a drag. "Well, Brandy's pregnant. They know that, they just don't know why it hurts so badly. So they're going to be testing to find out why and hopefully we can be heading home. Would you like to take Steve's truck and run me over please?"
I chuckle and remain silent. I knew she'd either be pregnant or just retarded. It turns out she wasn't retarded this time. Steve looks at me and his eyes grow serious, "You cannot tell Steve what I've told you tonight. You can't tell Dan or Mike or anyone. Do you think Dan will kick us out if he knows Brandy's pregnant."
This thought had occurred to me, long before I even knew Brandy was pregnant. I honestly didn't know the answer to his question. Dan's an amazing guy, but it's asking a bit much to ask to raise your child in his house. I don't know if he'd put up with it. I told Steve exactly what I thought and he agreed it was an awkward situation. Steve finishes his cigarette and returns inside to the emergency room in which I return to my couch. I lay my head down and sprawl out and before I know it, I'm asleep. The vibration of my phone woke me and it was a text from Steve. He was on lunch. I wanted to be home by the time he went to lunch, but it was apparent that wasn't going to happen. I head back out to my car to call Steve on his lunch and I run into Brandy's Steve out the door who's smoking another cigarette. He asks me if I'm speaking to Steve and I nod. He asks if I've told him and I shake my head. Steve nods and I head out to the car to talk to him. Steve guesses right off the bat. She either miscarried or she's pregnant. I didn't say which or if it was either, but Steve knew. I sat and spoke with Steve of my crazy night until I saw Brandy in my side view mirror. They hopped in the car and said we could go home now. I get off the phone with Steve and rush home to see him. He only has five minutes now before he has to go back. I cuddle with him on the couch and fall asleep on his stomach in the few minutes we have. He wakes me up and kisses me goodbye and I wake up and clean the house. I do the laundry and the dishes. I take care of the dog. I had to get a detailing on my car this morning, so I just stayed awake for that as well. I continued to do laundry and clean until Steve came home in which I finally fell asleep with him. I woke up around 8 in which Dan greeted me with a good morning and asked me if I'd like a burger and if I wouldn't mind frying the bacon for the burgers.
The night and adventure in which I experienced was a strange one. I was told not to tell Steve anything about the baby, but Brandy broke it to him. She told Mike as well and Dan. As soon as they stepped in the door. Here I am feeling terrible that Steve had guessed about the baby and here she is blabbing everything to everyone. I suppose it's her life though. She can do as she pleases. She hasn't shut up about being pregnant though. She uses it as an excuse for everything and she also suddenly has cravings and silly things that pregnant women go through. It's all fake though. She's like a week pregnant.
I'll allow her to live her life how she pleases though. It's not my decisions, just my car and drivers license that will be abused.
They enter the backroom after about a half hour's wait and I sit upon my couch I claimed as my own and read my book only to find that I'm not fond of the writing style or story in the least bit. A waste of eight dollars I think to myself. I get through probably five chapters before I pull out my iPod and try to access the hospital's internet. That doesn't work either. I decide to pull out my phone. Minimal phone service. This was going to be a long night. Throughout the course of the next two hours, I tweet to twitter with the minimal phone service I have in full frustration when each message generally takes three to four tries before it finally sends out. Nothing interesting happens until a man walks in and the receptionist asks if he needs help. He seems to be at war with himself about something and the woman asks his name. He mutters off something unintelligible. She asks for his last name and he blurts out, "THOMPSON!" She gestures him to sit down and do some paperwork. The man takes a seat. At this time, I notice it's11:30 in which it's Steve's break and I call him not wanting to fight with my phone with text messaging and I go out to my car for better service.
I talked with him about nothing pretty much to pass the time until he has to go back to work, in which he eventually did. Upset to go back to boredom, I drag myself into the hospital once again. Only this time, there sat a man in a wheel chair next to my seat. He had a fishing pole and tackle box. The man who had previously came in was now escorted by two policemen who sat next to him on the chairs across from me. I look around. There's no one else, but me, the two cops, the man with a fishing pole, and two receptionist behind protective glass.
Confused, I return to my seat, relatively close to the man with the fishing pole. The man looks at the cops and asks, "Where you gonna take me?"
One cop looks back confused and says, "We're not going to take you anywhere, sir."
The man replies, "You gonna wheel me out into the cold?"
The cop shakes his head and says, "No, Sir. We're here for him," and points to the man who had come in earlier.
The man with the fishing pole now seems to ramble off to himself about things and we all ignore him. A doctor briskly walks out of the emergency room doors and to the man sitting across from me between the two policemen.
"Why are you trying to kill yourself today?"
The man has a slight twitch and says, "Things are getting bad. I can't stand living there anymore."
"With your mother?"
"She's crazy. She's a bitch. I can't stand it. I can't fucking stand it."
"It can't be that bad now. How do you plan to kill yourself?"
"I have ways."
"How?"
"You'll find out when you find me dead."
"Tell me, really, what do you plan to do?"
"I have pills. Lots of pills. I'll take them all."
"Well, you know what. I don't think you'll do it. Now go home." The doctor turns a complete 180 on his heels and speeds back behind the emergency doors. One cop looks to the other and says, "Are we done here? Do we need to do anything else?"
The other replies, "I suppose we can leave now. Let's get him out of here."
I'm sitting there terrified. This man who is planning to commit suicide was told he probably wouldn't do it. I'm assuming the man now thinks he was issued a challenge. Challenge accepted. The one officer gets up and takes the man outside while the other is grabbing things to leave. The fisherman in the wheel chair yells out again, "Where are you gonna take me? Huh?"
Hospital security now walks by and the officer looks up to him and says, "What's his problem?"
Security responds, "What do you mean?"
"Well, he keeps asking me where I'm going to take him."
Security shrugs and looks at the fisherman. "Are you here for medical help?"
"WHERE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME?" the fisherman screams out.
The cop looks at security and asks, "Would you like me to get him out of here."
The receptionists all nod and security gestures for him to do his job. The officer goes towards the man and tells him he needs to leave the property. The fisherman begs for a minute as the officer agrees. You can tell he is getting impatient though because the fisherman seems to be doing nothing. Finally he has enough and puts a hand on his shoulder. The fisherman plants his butt firmly in his wheelchair. He asks to borrow a coat. The cop tells him he has no spare jacket. The fisherman looks at me and my eyes get wide and I shake my head. Had I not been wearing Steve's jacket, I may have contemplating giving him my coat, but it was not my coat to give. He begs for a blanket. The cop explains how he has no blanket and one of the receptionists offers to give him a blanket. She retrieves the blanket and hands it to the man. The officer now forces him out of the wheel chair and takes him outside.
Finally feeling secure that the crazies are gone, I open my shitty book back up to begin reading. About twenty minutes after the police leave, the fisherman comes wondering back in. The police are now gone. The receptionist pulls up the desk phone and calls for security. Security arrives shortly after and escorts him outside in which only a half hour later, he returns. He comes through the door and the hefty security guard puffs up.
"Can I use the bathroom, please?"
The security guard relaxes slightly and says, "Certainly, sir!"
"How long do I have? A minute? Two minutes? Five?"
"Well, you're not going to camp in there, so you don't have long."
The fisherman hurries along into the bathroom and the security guard looks at me. "How long would you give him?"
I laugh slightly and say, "Three minutes and forty-two seconds."
The guard checks his watch and says, "You got it!"
After some time, the guard checks the restroom. I'm not sure what happens, but he comes back out and doesn't say anything. I try to entertain myself once again since the excitement has dispersed. With no success, I still find myself completely bored. Finally, the bathroom door opens and the fisherman exits. He sits up at the receptionist window and she asks how to help him.
"I dropped my blanket in the toilet. It's all wet. Will I be able to get a new one?"
"Sir, I already gave you one blanket. We're not even really supposed to give out the blankets to non-patients. I made an exception for you. How can you ask of me to get you another blanket now?"
He begs for another blanket and she calls for security in which the burly security officer shows back up. He tells the man he has to leave and escorts him outside. About ten minutes after he is escorted outside, Steve, Brandy's husband comes out of the emergency doors to go outside for a smoke and asks me to join him. Not for a smoke of course, but for company. I agree and head out into the freezing cold winds.
We stand out there and he takes a drag. "Well, Brandy's pregnant. They know that, they just don't know why it hurts so badly. So they're going to be testing to find out why and hopefully we can be heading home. Would you like to take Steve's truck and run me over please?"
I chuckle and remain silent. I knew she'd either be pregnant or just retarded. It turns out she wasn't retarded this time. Steve looks at me and his eyes grow serious, "You cannot tell Steve what I've told you tonight. You can't tell Dan or Mike or anyone. Do you think Dan will kick us out if he knows Brandy's pregnant."
This thought had occurred to me, long before I even knew Brandy was pregnant. I honestly didn't know the answer to his question. Dan's an amazing guy, but it's asking a bit much to ask to raise your child in his house. I don't know if he'd put up with it. I told Steve exactly what I thought and he agreed it was an awkward situation. Steve finishes his cigarette and returns inside to the emergency room in which I return to my couch. I lay my head down and sprawl out and before I know it, I'm asleep. The vibration of my phone woke me and it was a text from Steve. He was on lunch. I wanted to be home by the time he went to lunch, but it was apparent that wasn't going to happen. I head back out to my car to call Steve on his lunch and I run into Brandy's Steve out the door who's smoking another cigarette. He asks me if I'm speaking to Steve and I nod. He asks if I've told him and I shake my head. Steve nods and I head out to the car to talk to him. Steve guesses right off the bat. She either miscarried or she's pregnant. I didn't say which or if it was either, but Steve knew. I sat and spoke with Steve of my crazy night until I saw Brandy in my side view mirror. They hopped in the car and said we could go home now. I get off the phone with Steve and rush home to see him. He only has five minutes now before he has to go back. I cuddle with him on the couch and fall asleep on his stomach in the few minutes we have. He wakes me up and kisses me goodbye and I wake up and clean the house. I do the laundry and the dishes. I take care of the dog. I had to get a detailing on my car this morning, so I just stayed awake for that as well. I continued to do laundry and clean until Steve came home in which I finally fell asleep with him. I woke up around 8 in which Dan greeted me with a good morning and asked me if I'd like a burger and if I wouldn't mind frying the bacon for the burgers.
The night and adventure in which I experienced was a strange one. I was told not to tell Steve anything about the baby, but Brandy broke it to him. She told Mike as well and Dan. As soon as they stepped in the door. Here I am feeling terrible that Steve had guessed about the baby and here she is blabbing everything to everyone. I suppose it's her life though. She can do as she pleases. She hasn't shut up about being pregnant though. She uses it as an excuse for everything and she also suddenly has cravings and silly things that pregnant women go through. It's all fake though. She's like a week pregnant.
I'll allow her to live her life how she pleases though. It's not my decisions, just my car and drivers license that will be abused.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
This Little Piggy Went to Walmart
Oh, my toes. My poor little toes. I can't even bare the pain. I don't want to walk anymore. I don't wanna stand. I just wanna sit back and let my toes recover. When I was younger, and learning to walk, I walked on my toes and it ended up that I just never grew out of that stage of walking on my toes. I've walked on my toes for as long as I can remember. Now, with this new job, going up and down ladders and running back and forth only on my toes, it makes them hurt... reeeeeeeaaaaly bad. However; I'll get over it eventually. I make Steve come home on his lunches and rub them. Things can only get better. Like, we're trading schedules around right now because apparently the night crew is really bad at their job. So our Support Manager is sending one of our day trainers to train the night crew. So we're all swapping schedules and it just so happens that I get Thursday, Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday off! Which will be so freakin' nice! I can let my toes recover! Apparently, they're going to keep me on days for just a bit longer so my support manager can work with me. So the cool thing is, I'm a part-time day-shift employee as of right now receiving full-time hours (40 hour weeks) and overnight pay. I pretty much just flipped off the system and went along my way. I'm quite proud of this. So, I probably won't be on night-shift until two weeks from now, which is what they said three weeks ago, but whatever. I'm okay with this.
I bought The Green Hornet today with Seth Rogan. Gawd, I loved that movie. It was so great. Not like the Green Hornet at all, but still really good. I got it on BluRay for Steve's PS3. Pretty much, every action that I make, I have to end up staying with Steve. I told him that if we buy this car, we're just gonna have to get married so he can help me pay for it and I have all these bluray movies now and I don't have a bluray player. If I ever dump Steve (or visaversa) I'm going to have all these BluRay movies and nothing to play them on.
Speaking of movies, tomorrow is May 4th. Star Wars Day. May the Fourth Be with You. Everyone remember to celebrate Star Wars Day, this is of dire importance.
Ohmigosh, I'm falling asleep on my laptop... I don't know how to end this properly right now and I realize how jumpy everything else was... soo.......
I bought The Green Hornet today with Seth Rogan. Gawd, I loved that movie. It was so great. Not like the Green Hornet at all, but still really good. I got it on BluRay for Steve's PS3. Pretty much, every action that I make, I have to end up staying with Steve. I told him that if we buy this car, we're just gonna have to get married so he can help me pay for it and I have all these bluray movies now and I don't have a bluray player. If I ever dump Steve (or visaversa) I'm going to have all these BluRay movies and nothing to play them on.
Speaking of movies, tomorrow is May 4th. Star Wars Day. May the Fourth Be with You. Everyone remember to celebrate Star Wars Day, this is of dire importance.
Ohmigosh, I'm falling asleep on my laptop... I don't know how to end this properly right now and I realize how jumpy everything else was... soo.......
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Come through the milk cooler with me
Quite sorry about the past couple days, I've been so busy. So, Friday, my breaks went out on my car. Nothing extreme, just the fact that I was behind a vehicle at a stop light with my foot firmly on the break and my car suddenly lurched forward. Probably no more than an inch or two, but enough to scare me with me knowing that I had told the car to stop and it was now moving. It eventually caught itself, but I had had it. Steve refuses to let me drive to work. Luckily, he's been on his days off. He's been driving me to work everyday.
However; he returns to work tonight. Therefore, I have to drop him off at work at 10, then I'll drive to work at 7am in which he gets off and he'll take the keys from me and drive home only to pick me up from work at 4pm.
The day after my breaks went out, Steve took me to the car dealers in town. We test drove quite a few, but settled on a 2010 Ford Focus. It's about $15,000 which is about $8,000 more than what I was looking at, but Steve assures me I'll be able to afford it. He's putting $500 of his own money down on it and then I'm trading in my Oldsmobile which adds up to another $500. So there's $1,000 down. I negotiated with my father to keep paying my insurance if I pay half. So there's that. I'll take photos of it tomorrow and show them to you.
At work, often times I run through the dairy backroom to get places as well as pick from the dairy. Every time I walk past the milk jugs, they're all lined up as so:
However; he returns to work tonight. Therefore, I have to drop him off at work at 10, then I'll drive to work at 7am in which he gets off and he'll take the keys from me and drive home only to pick me up from work at 4pm.
The day after my breaks went out, Steve took me to the car dealers in town. We test drove quite a few, but settled on a 2010 Ford Focus. It's about $15,000 which is about $8,000 more than what I was looking at, but Steve assures me I'll be able to afford it. He's putting $500 of his own money down on it and then I'm trading in my Oldsmobile which adds up to another $500. So there's $1,000 down. I negotiated with my father to keep paying my insurance if I pay half. So there's that. I'll take photos of it tomorrow and show them to you.
At work, often times I run through the dairy backroom to get places as well as pick from the dairy. Every time I walk past the milk jugs, they're all lined up as so:
I just want to reach out to a customer and pull them through and then sing Take On Me by Aha to them. How crazy would that be? To just see someone reach out to you from the milk bin? Oh my god, I want to make this happen.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that my father is also stopping by tomorrow. He's going to be my cosigner for my car, but he also wants to take a look at the car himself. I guess we'll get a good look over it. I'm just so worried because Dad doesn't like making decisions like this, so he'll just put it off... and never get the car. I suppose we'll see how it goes tomorrow. Steve probably won't let me go without buying the car though. Since my father is coming, though, I must clean my house. It's not much of a mess for the amount of people who live in it and the amount of control I have over anything, but my room is atrocious. Which is entirely all to blame on Steve. I'll clean it tonight, however. I have to work at 7am, but I can do this.
Poor Steve. He works from 10pm to 7am at Walmart, comes home for an hour to get ready for his second job at the radio station which starts at 8am and goes to about 3 or 4 in the afternoon. So of course, on his days off, he does nothing but sleep and it's kind of really upsetting. I finally get to see him when he's not all worn-out, yet he's still worn-out. I guess I'll just have to deal with it. Some day everything will be alright.
Well, I must be off to clean my room and do some laundry. I really ought to have done it long ago, but I had work and then there was D&D and blaaaah. I'm just addicted to the internet and really should just get out of here.
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