It has been a long weekend, and I "escaped" from the house to find time to finally write a blog. Not really a productive weekend, but good and actually in a mostly good way for a change. I must first say that I am kind of sad that no readers offered any comments to my last post *Fall Apart to help get me out of my creative funk with the story. Or tell me if it is even worth working on anymore. Or a prize contestant for the famed and very full, circle file! Posting it and reading it again has given me some ideas though. My main problem is I know were I want the story to go, just not how to get there. I just need to force myself to sit and write and see were the plot line takes me instead.
Thursday I attempted to bbq chicken. I say attempted because although it came out very good tasting, it was highly blackened. I would say Cajun. Usually bbq is one of the few things I attempt to cook. Something that could change very soon. With going back to my old job soon, trying to move up to a manger of some sort would be a great way to survive the slow business come winter time. In a small restaurant -you do not "play" manager, if you can not cook. Because people are always late, sick, fired. I hope to be away from my home state before winter, but when do things like that work out for me? And I have slowly givin' up trying to control how my life goes. Plus if I do escape, having the manager background on my resume should be very helpful. I must say here that the we tried the chicken again yesterday, and it came out much better.
Friday was the drinkin' night for a good friends upcoming birthday. All I really want to say about the night, is that I did not see bed until about 5 AM. And that I have not done that for a loooong time. My partying days like that are defiantly numbered and my head hated me most of Saturday. Enough so that I stared at the sun all day instead of actually venturing out in it to go on a great hike. Anyone that does not live in the great north west does not realize how rare the sun is this time of year. When it finally does come out in full force in the summer, everyone walks around squinting, wandering what that bright light in the sky is. And than they hold festivals all summer to have more reasons to enjoy the sun.
For whatever reason all I can think about --when I think about birthdays now is a past co-worker. Once again from Wally World. Not that there is anything wrong with that. This worker was a cart pusher, and not all there in the head. He is what I call a sympathy hire. Let me explain --than you can yell at me. If your yelling extra loud, and wearing a helmet while inside, you might be the sympathy hire.... Just sayin' Anyways, every company has to have a least one worker that would never get hired otherwise. Bigger company's need several, to keep up the quotas. Kind of like having 50 white workers and than the state required minority, female. *Not in any way saying that woman are minoritys or less supiriour to men in any way* The sympathy hire has a job title but no real work boundaries. You can identify them by things like=-- them wearing many layers of clothing year round, watering fake plants, re-filling your beverage with drool, or urinating in the water fountain.
This worker really was a nice guy but had a temper. He wore two coats and gloves even in the summer. And argued with anyone near him. Or himself, if no one was talkative. He would start the work day off by reading the obituaries. And for whatever reason my buddy and I had this huge urge to put his name in the obituaries and watch him freak out. Evil I know. Or is it more evil that we never did it? Anyways, the time clock would wish everyone a happy birthday! when they clocked in on there birthdays. Doubly traumatizing if you clocked in on your birthday and than found yourself in the local obituaries I'm sure. This day happened to be his birthday, and for whatever reason he did not want to see the message on the time clock. And attacked, than tore the time clock off the wall! Than he stomped on it. Not surprisingly this was his last day at work. I always wander how you explain things like this in future job interviews. I have a good resume, and have enough problems in my interviews.
Being just over 30 now, I really don't expect much excitement for my birthday. Facebook tells everyone that couldn't really care much, to write something nice on my wall. My family is not much for gift giving and I am defiantly not going to party with them. In fact I don't recall enjoying my last few birthdays a whole lot. I got cake stuffed in my face at work last year. My moms birthday is the day after mine, so it is one of the few birthdays I can recall every year! I recall some wild ones in my past. I do try to make the special days great for those around me. And hope that my friends wasn't that lame of a weeksend.
I must now pause to mention that one night last winter at work, every time I typed in special into the computer for the cooks to make, I spelled it differently. Does that make me extra speciel? Or just a product of the modern public schools?
The only birthday of mine I wish to share about today is my 21st birthday. I was living in Oregon and was still a big partier. Since than I really do not party much, and Oregon has become really really strict with booze laws. Anyways, we were having a house party and I thought it would be overly thrilling to actually buy booze for the first time. It was about one in the morning, so a few of us roamed down the road to the local 7-11. Because that same month my drivers licence expired, the cashier claimed it expired and would not sell to me. Even though it still verified I was legal, it at midnight on my birthday had expired, I was told. I can assume I argued logic with the cashier, but left with no beer. All ideas seem better when you are very tipsy, so we went to the store across the street. They had no "issues" selling to me. And I bought a six pack for each hand. Than crossed the street and proceeded to run back and forth in front of the first store. Holding a six pack up in the air in both hands. Than I left both packs in front of the first store and we headed home. I had plenty of beverages at home, I just wanted to purchase some for the first time. Like I said, things seem way brighter in your head, when you are drunk.
In closing, if you have just had a birthday, and Facebook did not remind me. I am sorry! Hope it was a great day for you. My next birthday is within the next 12 months! And I will turn a young 33. I will watch out for flying cake, sympathy hires whom have read this blog, and well wishing time clocks that day.
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