The Saga continues

In the realm of things grown-up, I accomplished a lot today — well, one big thing, anyway — took a long lunch and headed down to The Fed to sign scads of papers with Dragons. Today was also the first day I actually saw the numbers, and while I haven't really been thinking about it, the numbers look good. I'm really glad about that.

I also have an appointment to get the alignment looked at on the front end of the car tomorrow. Hey, that's two grown-up things in two days! I'm really on a roll here, except I'm not.

I did a few exceedingly non-grown-up things today. For example, my boss made a joking comment to me and I countered with "No, your mom (insert blah blah here)." I also threatened to stab two people in the jaw (I was kidding, of course! You believe me, right?).

But yeah.

There isn't a lot I can say about work right now, because the only things I can really share are things that would bore the living crap out of anyone who doesn't do my specific job. No even people who I work with closely on a daily basis are even remotely interested in what I do. They just take it on faith that I know what I'm doing and say, "Great job there!"

I mean, I am exceedingly good at what I do, and I take great interest in it, but it can be a mite lonely sometimes to only be able to talk to yourself to have someone who knows what they're talking about. I suppose I could call or e-mail other people with my job across the region, but hell, they have crap to do, you know?

But, I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love the work I do. I love the people I do it with. They're a more than fabulous group of people that I am pleased to know every day. And I have craploads of fun each and every time I go in. There aren't a ton of people who can say that sincerely, but it's true.

. . .

Speaking of work (and how much I love it), one of the things that's a small bonus is that of course, I can bring in my own music to listen to everyday. I have a small portable mp3 player, as one might expect, and it is filled to the brim with songs of passion, songs of rage, and songs of disco. To the delight of my co-works, it is not filled with rap, although I have a few select rhythms of joy that I've tossed on there.

To the vast delight of one of my co-workers, I have eight songs from a particular band that he is completely mad about. He has a production company he named after one of their songs, even. His love is so crazy, I am convinced he is part Canadian.

Or something.

But here's the thing: I enjoy their music on occasion. I am not in love with their music, nor do I particularly care to hear it day in and day out. That's what shuffle is for. It should come up maybe as often as twice a day. Possibly.

But what actually happens is that every time I leave the room, this band magically comes on. It's getting to jaw stabbing stage.

Today — and this is classic — I was up on a ladder, moving a shelf. This involved me eventually moving into a position where I had one foot on the top rung of the ladder, the other foot foot on a shelf, with another shelf lifted into balance on my shoulder, while in my left had I was positioning a brace, and my right hand was wielding a rubber mallet. Hard to picture, I know, but imagine something truly awkward where people are coming by every two seconds to ask if I might need some help. The answer, by the way, is yes, I probably do need help, but there is really hardly enough room for me up here, let alone another person.

So, just as I move into this horrible position, which incidentally causes the arch on my foot to cramp up, Band Lovin' Boy (or BLB for short) — yep, you guessed it — makes a move and changes tunes. Again. Arg. Plus, he does that thing where he gets tired of a song after the initial chorus and skips to the next one, which is just pure agony for me.

Jaw-stabbing. I tell ya.

Lucky for him, I am pretty forgiving when I have cupcakes and coffee in my belly. Also, I just can't be that mad because he just does not for the life of him understand. I have explained my reasoning a zillion times, but he just doesn't get it. And I really don't think he will. Sometimes you really do have to give up and let it go. A lesson in Zen, learned daily.

I do the best that I can.