Huh? The hell’s he talking about?
Eh, we’ll get there… More hustle bustle from the day… Good frienda mine was supposed to get divorced today… learned late in day (after six plus hours in court) “we’ll notify you in two weeks.” Imagine the emotions…
Our little group at work… 50-some of us.. “You can’t time in early.. You can’t be late.” So, there’s this time clock thingy we must punch (actually there are three) but can you imagine the nailbitingness of 50-some people trying to make sure it ain’t 7:59 or 8:01 when they clock in? Ridiculous.. And stress…
Drive to work. I’m doing 67 in a 65, biotch behind me is talking on cell, and has the halfa car-length thing going. I turn up Sportstalk to “get ridda her” in my brain - but my GD (gosh darn) implants won’t allow me to.
Finally set down at desk… message waiting light on… blinking…. “You have four messages.” GD (gosh darn) haven’t even had that first cup’o coffee and I gotta deal with these idiots from other time zones? Yes Victor, you do. Besides, your coffee cup appears to have grown some nasty crap since yesterday… there are somea those ‘wipe’ thingies in the corner… use them (and then wash) before you fill up…
Now that I can’t peruse the internet, GD I can ALMOST keep up. ALMOST. Tis frustrating as hell to do one’s job to the best of one’s capabilities AND STILL set yourself up for “why didn’t that deliver?”… :”Where’s this one at? And why is it taking so long to get there?”
(This shit is all interspersed between “well, I gotta apologize, we gave Box A that was supposed to go Virginia via Carrier 1 to Carrier 2, who thought it was going to Guam. Sorry. “ Or, “Oh yeah, that one we thought was gonna pickup last Thursday? Well, his truck broke down in New Mexico… and we’re still trying to get this picked up and to Florida by Friday..”
"Hey Vic... That shipment from Korea to Poway, CA.. today they opened the boxes that were supposed to be for Weimer and they were for Schultze. Can you get to the botton of this?"
Lunchtime. Our group who has been accused of sitting around and bitching about everything, was sitting around bitching about everything. “My GD feet are sweating” (we’d recently been handed down the “NO OPEN TOE” policy…) “My GD boobs needa breatha fresh air.. Do you mind?” (Said a former cleavage-showing one to the new “No crack showing” by cracky rule.)… “I HATE it (THE JOB) soooo much.. But how am I to peruse Monster.com when the sonsabitches have spy thingies on our computers to trace/track our every step?”
Post lunch… “Victor, has XYZ made it to destination yet?”… “I see the vessel for ABC is due in today.. Any chance of getting this to Mascoutah, IL: by Friday?”… “The computer indicates this delivered to Columbus, OH on 6/18, but they’re saying they don’t have it… can you get-me a proof of delivery?”
HEY WAIT!!!!! I got all this normal, everyday shit I GOTTA do, and you guys are bugging me about this stuff… I can’t do it all within the 8-5 framework….
“Victor, could you get me a quote for 2,000, 3,000, 4,000 lbs from Garden Grove, CA to the Bronx, NY at your earliest convenience?”…
“Hey Vic… Our Baltimore Port Agent delivered this shipment in March of this year, and they charged us $17.34 more than what we shoulda paid ‘em… can you look into it and get back to me ASAP?”
It’s now 2:14, we’ve been put on “No you don’t… there’s no friggin way you’ll smoke a cigarette outsida your given 15 minute break between 2:30 and 3:30pm….
Ringggg… Ringgggg…. “Dad… I think some kid stole my ID and my Hotmail addy.. I really think he’s got access to my account… and I’m afraid he’s charging things to me… and that he’s fictitiously sending emails to people pretending to be me… what can you do to help me out?” But son, I got myass in trouble for being on non-work related internet sites… you’ll haveta wait until 5pm.” WHAT???? HE COULD BE OUT THERE RIGHT NOW DOING THIS! ALL MY LIFE I’VE TAKEN CARE OF MY FAMILY.. THE ONE TIME WHEN I NEED YOU, YOU’RE NOT THERE FOR ME.
(All is good, we’re talking about 12 minutes now until I getta suck on a cig.)
I was in love with Karen Valentine. Hey, I bet she still looks great… Anyways, on their TV show… Room 222... The ole principal was having a day like the above… he kinda turned his head.. Whispered “I’ll never forget April 22nd.” Bewildered, his staff almost unitarily offered “WHY? What happened Aprill 22nd?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Life’s happenings are a good thing. There’s some shit, for sure. It ain’t always like we paint it. In spitea sweet dreams, crap happens the next day. We deal with it… We take care of it. We’re all faced with crap. For every fresh strawberry off the vine, there’s the walking into the restroom to saddle up to the GD toilet that didn’t completely flush from the squatter before. I hate when that shit happens.
I reckon, what would life be if it wasn’t trying…. No challenges, no financial woes, no pratfalls, married to Ms/Mr. Perfect. The 5-star Horiscope thingamabob ACTUALLY playing out.
Life ain’t like that. May you have fun jumping the ditches. Climbing the walls. Cussing out the assholes (after they’ve hungup)..Talking about your (usedta couldn’t spell s-u-p-e-r-v-i-s-o-r now I are one) bosses… The traffic.. The kids… The spouse… The checking balance, lack thereof.. The “ouches” and “oopsies” of the human bod.
It’s a decent ride. It has it’s ups and downs. (Of course, don’t forget, sex does too.) Of course, don’t forget, so does your 401K. Whatever. Enjoy the view. The ride. The stress. The stress relievers. The beer. The off time. The weekends.: The “Fuck you world, I am going to the Mall to completely spoil ME.”
Life, it be good. April 22nd included. Loveya, Victurd.
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