I can now safely affirm my primal kinship with Garfield (we share an approximate birthday, in the least).
I hate Mondays.
Well, this Monday. Yes, it's the first day of the business month, so we're busy, but have you ever had one of those days where you just got out of bed on the wrong side and everything goes wrong that can and you can't do even the simplest of tasks? That and the way my other two tellers seem to keep disappearing, leaving me to take the lobby customers and the drive up...
It's like that for Garfield on most Mondays, and it's like that for me today. Consequently, I think I should just go to sleep the minute I get home from work. If I sleep from 4 to Midnight, it'll be safely Tuesday when I wake up, and I'll get 8hrs. Of course, with the way things have been going, I'll somehow screw THAT up, too.
To quote L7, Calgon can't take me away.
The one up point today was from a check. I love some of the notes/memos customers write. Someone today had a check with a memo that said simply "Conan." Now maybe it was payback for Conan O'Brien tickets, but I can think of more interesting interpretations.
It's so bad today, I'm daydreaming about Bonnie Raitt lyrics from the E-Z listenin station we have piped in.
Leona Naess, take me away, even if just for 45 min.
No, I'm going to relish my lunch break and relax. I will take the time to write out the word minutes because it's my time and my journal and I am home and safe and I can write things for myself without angry customers complaining. I need to be reminded that sometimes.
I won't take an hour lunch today because I was late in the morning. For no reason other than that time moved faster than I did. I was up in plenty of time, but then I started falling behind. As is, this post has somehow taken almost 30 min to
thirty minutes to compose when it would normally take 15-20. So maybe I will sleep for sixteen hours tonight.
Tension? I don't know. What I do know is that my back cracked my chair last night, instead of the other way around. Fucking Boxlor; thinks he's so big. He's not big. The knots in my back are big. And they're mean; they break things.
"I was wrong to put you up there with a ton of dead heroes and a ton of dead songs."