It's only 12:31PM and I feel as if I've already lived a full day and must lie down to recuperate. The only freaking way to begin to explain is to break this ish down for you in a timeline that goes back to last night, when I decided to go to bed. I work at a Call Center, the training of which is apparently a few weeks. Today is the first day of training, which runs from 8 to 4.
Or for me...8 to freaking 10:00.
Whatever, not getting ahead of myself.
Monday Night/ Tuesday Morning
12:00AM
Thinking to myself I should probably go to bed. Distracted by DYAC.com
12:04AM
Toni says the weirdest things. She really just told me her calves are a sack of fat.
12:05AM
Googling 'fat in calves'. Intrigued. Reading.
12:10AM
Have every intention to log off skype, really, but dyac.com pulls me in again.
12:15AM
Have moved on to fanfiction.net, avidly reading a very strange story that leaves me with unrealistic expectations about romance and castles. Which I already have, thank you very much Disney.
12:45AM
Again, thinking should go to bed. Stare at clock...stare at laptop...roll over and stare at clock again...return to fanfiction.
1:20AM
Finally talk myself into closing laptop. It is a success. Now staring at ceiling and thinking 'OMG the beds at parents' house is just too firm'.
1:25AM
zzzzzzZZZZZZZZzzzzz
4:19AM
Wake up terrified. Why? Dreamt that my job was in Washington and I woke up late and somehow missed it? Very involved and complex, complete with 'you're fired' scene. Turn on laptop to stare at clock. Sigh in relief. Return to sleep.
5:50AM
Nearly break my neck when first alarm clock goes off in ear. Right. In. Ear. Rollover, back to sleep.
6:10
Another alarm clock, same ritual.
6:18AM
Jolt out of bed, remembering that a) I have sh!t to print before work b) the first bus leaves at 6:50 c) I dont really know my way around the transportation system d)I need to look human, at the very least.
6:20AM
Wondering what the f&%$ is going on with Uaccess because it apparently is out to get me. Hello? Transcript printout?
6:30AM
Practically in bathrobe, ranting in whispers because rest of family is asleep and uaccess is STILL being crazy. Cue running to bathroom to pee.
6:35AM
SUCCESS. uaccess is not a douche anymore and I love it. Printing underway. Dressing self-underway.
6:41AM
Holy sh!t, I'm not completely dressed. I need to pee again. Checking bus route, run to grab paper, trip and almost faceplant, give up on paper, try to memorize transfers. Realize bus route is 0.33miles away, according to Google Map, which translates into how much walking?!
6:44AM
Memorization fail. Toss entire laptop into purse, forget make-up, leave house.
6:45AM
Power-walk.
6:46AM
Power jog.
6:47AM
Disaster. Not only do I trip and almost faceplant, when I get the hell up and start moving, I run smackdab into a bumblebee. Really? Really, Lord? Really, life? A BUMBLE FREAKING BEE. As I make contact with this irridiscent creature, I hear the hum of the damned bus as it DRIVES PAST ME. A FULL THREE MINUTES EARLY.
6:48AM
I am running, hoping against hope that I might somehow cover that 0.2miles left in 60 seconds. I am also cursing because Mr. Bumblebee is caught in my hair.
In.
My.
Hair.
I am running, with a bumble bee caught in my hair.
6:49AM
My poor eyesight somehow manages to see that a disabled person is getting on the bus. Still running. Half a block left. With one more flick, Mr. BumbleBee is free to buzz along and eff up someone else's day.
6:50AM
BOOYAH.
Pull up as that bus drive is about to pull away and bang on that door like I'm a pissed Bad Girl at the entrance to the Bad Girl Mansion. And she whips that door open like she's trying to avoid a toaster oven flying at her head. I don't know if my smile made her feel better or more alarmed...
7:20AM
Finally get off at the right stop. What the hell, City? Why is everything spaced so far apart?!!!
7:23AM
Walking to where I need to go. Wondering what exactly sweat is made of...I mean, is it purely water? Isn't it salty? And if it is salt is it like salt that comes from your body or like salt from your skin? And why do some people sweat more than others? Is it like a protective mechanism? Sh!t, my shirt is soaked.
7:30AM
Hm, this place is not looking familiar. At all. Like...at all. This is totally not where my job is located...
7:32AM
Backtrack.
7:37
After a half a mile, I'm finally in the right place. And with 20mins to spare, FIST PUMP.
7:40AM
Bored.
7:45AM
Bored.
8:10AM
Bored but people-watching. Wasn't this thing supposed to start at 8?
8:25AM
We finally get to go up. It's pleasantly awkward in the large group. It's like that first day in high school if you went to a brand new school with lots of new people. Everyone's trying to look cool (yeah, I def didnt take my sunglasses off until I absolutely had to). Most people are trying to avoid eye contact. The males can be divided into three groups - avoid eye contact, avoid eye contact and attempt to look cool, look around interestedly. The girls have an extra group... the 'talk randomly to friend or bystander' group. I don't like silence. Guess which group I'm in?
8:33AM
Were no higher-ups informed that they would have a sh!tload of people in here doing training? The computers are old as sin, which really means they're at least 4 years old, and we're using Internet Explorer. Do people still use that browser? Hasn't everyone upgraded to Google Chrome or Firefox?
9:00
Yeah...no.
Nothing has really been accomplished.
Lots of chaos. But I've made two new friends!
9:30
These computers are on their last effing life line. Literally, rebooting whenever they feel like. At least me and the new homies are entertaining ourselves.
9:40AM
Amusing myself with doodling. Asking neighbors if they think one doodle looks like a camel. Response? "Hmm, sort of, yeah". I am pleased. I draw a bigger one.
10:00
A boss lady asks for information. I stand. The woman eyes my pants and asks if I can step outside.
10:01AM
"Miss, your pants are too short." ...my pants...are too short...? "I need to talk to a supervisor so we can figure out what to do with you, young lady.."
Uh. My pants are not shorts. They are lower than mid-thigh. They don't say 'Hey, I'm the slutty coworker' nor do they say 'I wish I weren't wearing anything at all'. They are not too long and not too short. They are perfect. I am offended. Boss lady marches off. What?
10:05AM
"I'm so sorry but we'll have to send you home immediately. Is there anyway you can come back?" Come back? Brain goes blank. I'm picturing two words. One begins with an 'f' and the other is 'no'. Whatever I'm thinking is translated to face. I know this because she winces. She does not wait for me to speak.
Smart lady.
"That's fine then. We'll see you tomorrow."
10:10AM
Leaving building. Satan has decided to send along something to rub this in my face. That 'something' is a man in a very nice car who whistles. When I look back, which I really didn't mean to, he yells 'Nice pants'.
Yes.
They are.
Except they're 'too short'.
Thanks for the reminder, jerkoff!
...
...
...
All I do is win win win no matter what, right?
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