I forgot to mention the combat boots. Damn. I forgot my regular tennis shoes at work (a very beat-up pair of Vans), and wore my dress shoes home. Thus, I didn't have anything to wear with my after work clothes (tee-shirt and jeans). Reluctantly, I pulled out my immaculate pair of Doc Martens. The blue and green ones. I'd forgotten just how much pain is involved in wearing Doc Martens, especially if you haven't worn them in a while. I still haven't gotten my other pair fixed, simply because I'm too lazy to bring it to the cobbler's to get the heel put back on.
I ended up with several almost-blisters on my feet. All the calluses have gone away, thanks to soft living. I need to get my other Docs fixed so I can wear them all the time...those Vans are immensely unattractive, if comfortable. They make me feel like I'm in middle school again.
You people make me very, very sad. Why didn't you tell me that I fucked up the link to yesterday's entry? Out of all twenty or so of you, only Jade was kind enough to let me know about the error. Perhaps you assumed it was an April Fool's joke?
The elevators in my building are frighteningly slow. You've seen those movies where Panicked Female is running away from Evil Monster/Robot, and ducks into the elevator? She pushes the "close door" button, and the elevator doors close in the face of the evil one. If she tried that here, she'd be messily dead. It takes a full 20-25 seconds for those doors to close if you push the "close door" button.
Because the doors are so slow, it's really hard to judge how long it will take them to close, and people already on the elevator don't really like holding the door open for latecomers. So people tend to lurk around the elevators, waiting for the doors to close so they can make a bee-line for the elevators and not look stupid when the door closes in their faces. This morning, I was taking an elevator up from the plaza level, and I heard the tell-tale click of business shoes on the tiled floor. I didn't move to hold the door open. But as the doors were almost closed (there was less than seven inches of space left), a briefcase was thrust into the opening, forcing the doors to open back up. In walked a rather overwrought-looking man, who proceeded to glare at me the entire way up.
I guess he was really in a hurry.
Alex left early yesterday, without telling anyone but our supervisor. Why? Because he needs to be dragged out in the streets and shot. Bastard. He left while I was at lunch, leaving the front desk with no coverage. Never mind the fact that he's been complaining to the supervisor again. Honestly, I'm sick of him.
So, since I'm bucking for a promotion (which will improve my chances of getting a better job), I might be posting these entries a bit later. Noon, perhaps, since Alex is at lunch then. Fucking bastard.
I didn't really do anything last night, aside from talking to Katie A–. Dirk didn't get to sleep until 2:30, so he didn't wake up until it was time for him to go to work. Insomnia is really awful for people who work the midnight shift.
Oh, I found the web site for Peeps! I saw some pretty blue ones at the store a few days ago, but Dirk wouldn't buy them for me.
I'm going to get a new air filter, oil change, cables, spark plugs, and a PVC valve (whatever that is). I found out that my car doesn't have a distributer cap. I guess they were really going for cheap when they made Cutlass Cierras. Instead, it's got some kind of coil dealie that hooks straight up to the spark plug. I didn't quite catch the guy's entire explanation.
There are daffodils lining I-95. Washington D.C. can only be called attractive in the spring.
Everyone knows about the cherry blossoms in D.C. Heck, we have a parade dedicated to them. They ran an article in the Post yesterday, talking about the symbolism of beauty and death associated with cherry blossoms. Is that what Japan was thinking when they sent us those cherry blossom trees? "We hope you die! We're prettier than you! Die!" Most likely not, I'm being facetious. Still, it was a little too deep for a Post article.