clocks go slow in a place of work / minutes drag and the hours jerk
08.07.04 @ 6:18 p.m.
I keep listening to the Clash song the title lyric is from ("Magnificent Seven") while I'm at work and give a bitter little laugh.
The thing that has made work so wearying lately is that I spent the last two weeks working with just Boss John. And while he has gotten better at not making me loathe him and wish he would spontaneously combust, there were still the times when I just wished it was all over. No more job. Well, that's about a week and a half away, maybe less, and John won't be back at Eastwood for two weeks! Never have to see him again! Yesterday was so annoying because he tried to go off on George Michael, whom I have no particular love for but simple indifference, because he was a "homo" and a "fruit." Ohhh, all my self control not to tell him he's an asshole. Worse because I was looking longingly at a rusty metal putty knife and thinking about using it to remove my internal lady parts. The only good thing was that he completely ran out of things for me to do by 2 (and I work until 3:30) and told me to find a place to hide and run out the clock. So I sat in the custodian's office (I know where he goes to hide, have suspected since the beginning. Why else would there be a terribly comfy chair out in the storage room?) and read Coraline by Neil Gaiman. Not too bad.
Speaking of reading, I was reading The Who In Their Own Words and was simultaneously amused and horrifed by Roger's wording in this sentence: "There's something about a Y-bone steak I can't resist." Yeah. He's talking about groupies. Charming, Roger, darling, charming.
I write so little because NOTHING EVER HAPPENS.
Well, today was kind of interesting, after a long couple of hours of soul crushing ennui and boredom. I didn't want to read, didn't want to do ANYTHING. Everything I could think of seemed like it would be just as boring as not doing anything at all. I watered my japanese maple, which is planted on my dog Twiggy's grave and remembered that she died five years ago this month. Which means that Ruby is five years old. Dang. Time flies.
[Break to have dinner and walk dogs. It's now 7:30]
I wandered around outside, hoping to find something to do,preferably something that wouldn't get me dirty, sweaty, or seem like work. This is why I did not complain of my boredom to my parents, except once to say to dad that I wished Jodi were home to go dress shopping with me, since Amy was out of town and Martha was more than likely busy with her sister's wedding. My parents, meanwhile, were involved in heavy yardwork. This eventually extended to amateur tree surgury, because there's a little plum or cherry tree of some kind that's so heavy with fruit that it's now leaning onto the roof. So my dad got up on a ladder (that wobbled precariously and made me so horrendously paranoid) and started going at it with an electric chainsaw. (A chainsaw that plugs in, like a lawnmower that plugs in, seems like a singularly stupid invention, or at least something that sounds like a fortune in shredded extension cords and hospital bills for electricution.) Quietly, so my dad wouldn't hear, my mom expressed a belief that the first branch would swing down and break one of the large windows in the downstairs living room. It wouldn't be too much of a loss since it was already cracked. Well, the first branch came down okay. On the second one, my dad started cutting on the load bearing side, which was really stupid, since all he achieved was getting the electric chainsaw firmly jammed in the tree. He had to take the chain off or leave the whole thing lodged in the tree. I wanted to take a picture of the saw just sticking out of the tree, because it looked delightfully ridiculous, but I didn't. Fortunately, we have a backup chainsaw, gas powered. (My secret advice for dealing with the tree was "Cut the motherfucker down," which I whispered several times, but both parents were wearing earplugs.) The branch started to come down and Dad rescued the first chainsaw chain. And then gravity really took over. The branch swung down heavily and went right through the window.
It was fantastic. The kind of thing you don't expect to see in real life. AND none of the important stuff sitting on the window sill got broken. A plant or two got knocked down, but the fancy terra cotta tile thing from Puerto Rico the neighbors gave us and the lovely ceramic bottle I made in high school survived our little episode of "When Trees Attack." We now have newspaper taped over the hole to "keep birds out." A meanacing horizontal crack runs down the middle of the remaining glass. New window time! Something that actually opens rather than a big ugly piece of glass! Probably double-paned, too, which is good in a woodstove heated house.
Movies rented: Old School, Secret Window, Series 7, and something for my parents that I didn't look at. City of God, I think. Tonight is probably Old School. Series 7 has been recommended to me by Martha, and is a movie about a brutal reality show where six people are chosen by lottery, given guns, and forced into a televised "kill or be killed" situation. Looking at IMDb, there are stupid fucking idiots who think it was real. I was going to link the IMDb page, but let's wait until I watch it and decide if I like it, eh?
Oh, I did watch Cold Mountain last week or so. Really, it was just for Jack White and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. I've read the book, the book was better. I wanted to see Jack White act because I adore Jack White. I think I already mentioned he does an incredible job with the new Loretta Lynn album and obviously influences the sound.
Ho hum. My parents are on a diet, which means I'm consuming a secret stash of chocolate and cookies. And despite a moderately physically demanding job, I've gained five pounds and a small but noticeable increase in stomach. Damn it. I'm going to have to start doing crunches or something.
Uhh... Driver's test (knowledge) probably next week. Probably a whole lot of doing nothing at work, but maybe not. OMG the Isle of Wight Festival at the movie theater on Monday. I'm off to buy the tickets online now.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
