Rough Around the Edges
Today's sucked so far; it'll get better, but I can't talk about that part.
I've spent the last four days of my life in a hole, and I've enjoyed it immensely, but it's taken a lot out of me. When I've finished, I've been exhausted, sore, and hungry. Last night I got home, and I went to bed just after 18:00. I set my alarm for 04:00; if they wanted me at work at 05:00, like they had the last four days, they'd call me and tell me. I figured a 07:00 standard arrival was safe.
I reset my alarm for 04:30, got myself squared away in about an hour and fifteen minutes, and left my flat about fifteen minutes earlier than usual, due to the fact that the route I usually take to work is closed. I arrived at my building around 06:45, and walked into the building. My supervisor poked his head out of one of the offices, looked surprised to see me, and greeted me. I looked at the board, and upon finding my name on the schedule, instantly quoted the immortal words of Adam Sandler: "Fuck me in the goat ass." I quickly found out that I wasn't due to start my scheduled tasks until 20:00, and wasn't due into the shop until 16:00.
I ran a couple of errands on post, and then went to the vehicle registration desk in one of the base admin offices; today was the day that the extended temporary pass on my TrailBlazer expired. I took in the same paperwork (bill of sale, company ID badge, proof of insurance, and driver's license) that had gotten me my first few temporary passes. She looked at the stuff and told me that the VIN number on my insurance card and the one on the bill of sale didn't match; she said I'd need to sort it out with my insurance company, and that I could have them fax a new one down. At this point, I was pretty freaked out; not only was my schedule for the next two days irreparably hosed up, but now I wasn't going to even be able to get back onto base. I went back to the shop, knowing that I'd need to have my dad helping me out with this. Upon inspection, I realized that the surly lady behind the desk had made a stupid, rookie mistake: she'd read the VIN number for my trade-in, not on my current vehicle. I was friendly about it when I went back to get things settled and get my new pass.
When I got home from work, I checked my voicemail; sure enough, my team leader left me a message that I didn't get, telling me that I didn't need to be in until 16:00. So now I'm just killing time, trying to rest before heading back out. Luckily, work's going to be pretty outstanding tonight. Even so, I'll be rough around the edges for a couple of days on account of the massive hit to my circadian rhythm.
I'll probably survive; if not, I will shared custody of my blog to Father Time, who will pamper it, and Mo-Licious, who will neglect it.
I've spent the last four days of my life in a hole, and I've enjoyed it immensely, but it's taken a lot out of me. When I've finished, I've been exhausted, sore, and hungry. Last night I got home, and I went to bed just after 18:00. I set my alarm for 04:00; if they wanted me at work at 05:00, like they had the last four days, they'd call me and tell me. I figured a 07:00 standard arrival was safe.
I reset my alarm for 04:30, got myself squared away in about an hour and fifteen minutes, and left my flat about fifteen minutes earlier than usual, due to the fact that the route I usually take to work is closed. I arrived at my building around 06:45, and walked into the building. My supervisor poked his head out of one of the offices, looked surprised to see me, and greeted me. I looked at the board, and upon finding my name on the schedule, instantly quoted the immortal words of Adam Sandler: "Fuck me in the goat ass." I quickly found out that I wasn't due to start my scheduled tasks until 20:00, and wasn't due into the shop until 16:00.
I ran a couple of errands on post, and then went to the vehicle registration desk in one of the base admin offices; today was the day that the extended temporary pass on my TrailBlazer expired. I took in the same paperwork (bill of sale, company ID badge, proof of insurance, and driver's license) that had gotten me my first few temporary passes. She looked at the stuff and told me that the VIN number on my insurance card and the one on the bill of sale didn't match; she said I'd need to sort it out with my insurance company, and that I could have them fax a new one down. At this point, I was pretty freaked out; not only was my schedule for the next two days irreparably hosed up, but now I wasn't going to even be able to get back onto base. I went back to the shop, knowing that I'd need to have my dad helping me out with this. Upon inspection, I realized that the surly lady behind the desk had made a stupid, rookie mistake: she'd read the VIN number for my trade-in, not on my current vehicle. I was friendly about it when I went back to get things settled and get my new pass.
When I got home from work, I checked my voicemail; sure enough, my team leader left me a message that I didn't get, telling me that I didn't need to be in until 16:00. So now I'm just killing time, trying to rest before heading back out. Luckily, work's going to be pretty outstanding tonight. Even so, I'll be rough around the edges for a couple of days on account of the massive hit to my circadian rhythm.
I'll probably survive; if not, I will shared custody of my blog to Father Time, who will pamper it, and Mo-Licious, who will neglect it.
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