Gone Again!

Something I find interesting about people is how they tend to assume that everyone will enjoy the interests that they have developped in their own lives, and thus they must share about their own passion ad infitum. This is more than just the occasional story, or answering specific questions. I'm talking about the people who relate everything to this particular area in their life, and everything they talk about revolves around that event/hobby/whatever.
The best example I can give you is the one that I have run into the most often, at least in the last few years. I've met quite a few people in college who go to camp every summer (by now they are all counsellors), and as near as I can tell, that is the only time they are happy. I assume this because they will spend all of their time talking about their camp, and finding people who have gone to their camp, or to other camps, and they are just so enthusiastic about it. It is almost like they are not able to enjoy anything besides camp, and they act as though everyone else feels the same way. They tell you stories about their campers and about the games they have led, and they seem to expect you to be extremely excited and entertained. Now, don't get me wrong. I have nothing against camps. I attended one summer, and was a counsellor for two more summers, and I enjoyed myself. But it is not something that I bother to think about all that much, and it doesn't excite me.
And this is just one example. There are many others out there. And it's not really the excitement and constant story telling that get to me. It's more the obsessive enthusiasm and the almost superior attitude that is related in that enthusiasm. For example, when I say that I don't like peanut butter, most people are inclined to react with shock and almost horror. "How can you not like peanut butter?" they ask, amazed that anyone could ever utter such a sentence with a straight face (incidently, the answer I give to this question is "Well, it mostly has to do with the flavour, but it's also the texture and aroma). People can't imagine how someone can not like peanut butter, something that they enjoy completely, and thus everyone must enjoy it. It has led me almost wish I was allergic to peanuts, because then it would be much easier to explain. But people just seem unable to accept that I don't like peanut butter.
It's the same with music. If you don't like a band that everyone else likes, then those people are shocked at your taste in music. They will play a song for you and just expect you to be blown away by it, and you don't really care all that much. In their mind there is nothing, or little, better than this band and/or song and they just can't quite fathom how someone can't like it. It's a phenomenon more common with popular things (try saying you don't like U2 around certain people, and you'll understand what I mean)(I do like U2, but I understand that some people don't. Other people aren't quite so understanding). Or the "intellectual set" can get this way too. They will eschew certain things because they are "lowbrow" and "beneath them", and seem unable to understand how anyone can enjoy such base entertainment. It seems very snobby.
Or how about this one: everyone who comes to Calgary, or just Alberta in general, spends a great deal of time talking about how great the mountains are and how awesome it is to be living so near to them. They are so enthusiastic and dead certain that everyone is of the same opinion that I don't really have the heart to tell them that I am not a huge mountain fan. I like them fine, I think they look very cool. But they are really not too exciting. My scenery of preference is forest and more often, prairie. I love the huge sky stretching out before me, and sunset on the prairies is frankly the most awesome thing I have ever seen. If you don't agree, that's fine. But that's my preference.
Anyhoo, that's my rant for the day. To anyone who is completely devoted to the story of James and his time travelling friends, I must apologise again. On Wednesday morning (actually noon) I am flying out to Vancouver for at least a week, and possibly longer. Therefore, at least week will not be updated, and maybe two. We'll see how long I'm gone.
Also, tomorrow is the first time I have ever flown. I'm excited. I should probably sleep now. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The Importance of a Good Breakfast

12. Peace and quiet. For now.

Smelling salts are nasty things, probably among the most hideous smelling objects on the face of the planet. James had nearly passed out when he become curious and taken a huge whiff of them when he was in elementary school. They had the opposite effect on him this time, causing him to bolt straight up and smack heads with Mel.
Twenty minutes later Ruds had managed to drag another package of smelling salts over to wake up both of them. Groggily they sat up, rubbing their heads. Large bumps had swollen up on both of their foreheads where they had connected. “Mel,” came James’ weak voice. “Is there any way I could convince you to just kill me now?” This elicited a small chuckle from his friend.
Slowly she rose to her feet and sat down heavily in the pilot’s seat. The main viewer had gone dark once they had landed. Mel leaned forward and cleared it, giving them a view of the outside world. Large trees surrounded the time ship, and sunlight filtered down to the ground in small patches. There was little sign of wildlife, but that wasn’t much of a surprise, given how skittish wildlife was around new things, especially new things that popped out of thin air. About the only movement came from the branches of a tree directly in front of them, where a pair of squirrels were having a competition to see who could scold this new item the loudest.
James watched as Mel picked up the pamphlet and flipped through it, stopping a couple times to read a section more closely. Finally she rose to her feet. “C’mon,” she said, walking to the back of the main bridge. “Let’s get ourselves patched up, and then maybe we can figure out what exactly we are going to do about, well, everything.” She led him down a passageway to a small room.
The room had a few different computer displays on the walls, which were painted what was supposed to be a soothing green colour. There was a bed against the far wall and some cupboards were on the wall to the left. It was enough for James to figure out that this was obviously the medical bay. He went and leaned on the bed as Mel walked over to the cupboards and started rooting through them. His arm was throbbing, and so was his head. That, along with a still slightly nauseous stomach, made him a rather unhappy individual.
Triumphantly Mel pulled out a small cylinder shaped object with blinking lights on it. “This should do the trick,” she said before pressing it against her forehead. The swelling immediately lessened, as did the redness. She walked over to James. “Hold still, this might sting a little.”
“Sting?” was all James had time to say before she pressed it against his arm. He cringed, but all he felt was a pleasing warmth spread through his arm. And then it felt like someone had grabbed his arm and pulled it off. A second later, everything was fine. Gingerly he moved his arm around and felt no pain whatsoever, except for a small bit of tightness which simply came from not having moved his arm in a while. Quickly he reached up and stopped Mel from touching that thing to his head. “Does it feel like that every time?” he asked warily.
Mel simply shook her head. “I don’t really know,” she said. “I’ve only been injured once. Now quit being a baby. This will help in the long run.”
“Well, at least let me do it to myself.” Taking the cylinder, he pressed it against his head. This time the warmth spread through his head without the accompanying pain. Apparently the first dose was the painful one, and after that your body could handle it. He gave the cylinder back to Mel, who put it back in the cupboard.
Silently they walked back down the corridor to another room. This one had a couple tables set up and a long counter. Behind the counter there were a couple heating elements, as well as a sink. The walls were painted a garish green colour. Come to think of it, thought James, pretty much all the walls in this particular time ship are a green colour. I wonder if we can change that. Get a little variety.
They walked behind the counter and through a small swinging door. A small kitchen with food preparation areas, as well as a small cooler was arranged in a rather efficient manner. The cooler was found to be well stocked, and soon a meal was prepared. Taking their food, they went outside and sat on a log. As they ate, they discussed their next move.
“Where are we, exactly,” said James, looking around cautiously. It had been Mel’s idea to go outside, and that is where they had ended up despite James’ wishes. He just wasn’t sure how safe it was out here.
With a smile, Mel breathed in deeply. “We are in northern Saskatchewan.”
“Ska-what-a-wha?”
“Saskatchewan. It’s a province in Canada. My dad brought our family up here last year, to a cabin near a small town called Ile-a-la-Crosse. The fishing was awesome, and the scenery was about the nicest I’ve seen anywhere. I thought it would be a nice quiet place where we could rest for a bit and get our bearings.” She took another bite of her meal. “And we’re back far enough in time that we don’t have to worry about many people around here. Maybe some Native American tribes, but I don’t think that will be a problem. We’re buried pretty far back in the bush.”
James looked around appreciatively, his fear somewhat mollified. It was rather nice here, with luscious vegetation that was brilliantly coloured. The wildlife was slowly returning to normal. More squirrels ran around the branches of the trees, chasing each other from branch to branch, making death defying leaps to neighbouring trees. Every once in a while they would stop to stare at the two teenagers sitting in their territory, but there seemed to be little threat there, so they would carry on in their little games. Insects buzzed lazily around, leaving the two humans alone. James even spotted a few ducks flying overhead, only to be surprised by an eagle swooping into their midst. The eagle gave a cry and flew away while the ducks squawked noisily to themselves, flying away rapidly. James chuckled to himself. Stupid ducks.
“Okay,” said Mel finally. “What exactly are we going to do?” She looked at James expectantly.
“That’s a really tough question to answer. We need to get more information somehow, because we really don’t know very much. Let’s see what we do know.
“First, I am apparently the saviour of the world. Second, we have to travel through time and fix something, or more than one thing. Third, um, actually, that’s about all that I’ve got. You?”
Mel thought for a bit before brightening. “Gordon mentioned once that the time machines came from the future where there was a secret organisation devoted to preventing time problems. I think he wanted us to go to them and get some information. Though I don’t know how much we can trust him.”
A shrug. “I guess all we can do is give it a try. My question is how are we supposed to keep ahead of Gordon. He obviously knows more than he was letting on, and he also didn’t supply us with much helpful information, plus he knows how all of this works. We’re flying blind.” He smiled cockily. “Fortunately, that seems to be my area of expertise.”
They finished their meal and headed back into the ship. Clouds were starting to build, it looked like a storm was about to hit. The squirrels watched as the ramp closed on the odd, wheel-less cart. A moment later, it winked out of existence. Two moments later, a lightening bolt struck where the ship had been, starting a fire. Fortunately, it had been rather damp, and the accompanying rain would quickly put the fire out.
The ducks sat huddled on the lake. General Quack barked out a few orders to his troops, and some words of encouragement. That eagle had nearly taken out the scouting party, but not before they had spotted their target. Of course, now the target had left again, but the tracking device they had planted would take them to wherever they needed to go. He ruffled his feathers, shaking the water from his back. It was time to report to the cows.

Holy cow! A restful day for our two intrepid time travellers. Will they be able to finish their task easily? Can they outwit the giant talking purple dinosaur. Does the future have any Cheerios? Perhaps we will find out in the next instalment of:
The Importance of a Good Breakfast.
Same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger time, same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger place!

Didja miss me?

A couple weeks ago someone showed me a small patch on their face just under the side of their jaw where they had missed when they were shaving, and once he had pointed it out, it was very noticeable. Today (I know, I'm kinda slow) I realised that there are advantages to having blond facial hair. If I miss a patch shaving, chances are good no one but me will notice. It simply doesn't show up. When I grow a gotee, it doesn't really seem to show up as a patch of hair on my face as much as it simply just changes the shape of my face.
Anyhoo, I'm back from my trip to Edmonton. It wasn't too bad, though the days were really long. I probably averaged 12 hours a day working, and I worked for ten days straight. It was crazy. Now I'm sitting here having not really slept since about 5pm yesterday, which would make this the twentieth straight hour I've been awake. I'm a bit sleepy, but mostly I'm hungry. Fortunately I've got soup on the stove. Speaking of which, gotta go.

Vacation?

There will be no The Importance of a Good Breakfast for the next couple weeks as I am going out of town for work. I will be up in Edmonton for the next 10-12 days. Hope everything goes well for everyone, and I will talk to you all when I get back.

It must have been Thursday. I never could get a hang of Thursdays.

Allow me to rant, just for a little bit, about Home Depot. Actually, it's probably not even Home Depot, but that is where the problem arises, so that is what I will rant about. Part of my job is to put merchandising units up on the sides of aisles. These are basically pieces of plastic pegboard with sides, and they are called shadow boxes. Now Home Depot shelving racks come in three sizes, generally: 36" wide, 42" wide, or 48" wide. Thus, the shadow boxes must be one of those three sizes. 36" is the most common and the easiest to handle. These come shipped to us in cardboard boxes pre-assembled. We just have to hold them up so they are straight and screw them into the metal shelving unit. Easy. The second most common is the 48" size. These also come pre-assembled, though I don't think they come in boxes. They are a little tougher to get in because they are so wide, it is harder to hold it straight while drilling, but they are no real big deal. Now when I say they are the second most common, I mean that they are hardly ever seen at all. The last store we did had five out of a possible 90 or so. The current store had one.
Third most common (and they are about as common as the 48" size) is the 42" shadow boxes. These come in cardboard boxes and are pre-assembled. Or at least, you'd think they could be pre-assembled. Yet, for some reason, someone has decided that these shadow boxes should come in pieces and require assembling at the store. Then they decide that the best type of screw to use is plastic. For some reason, we are provided with eight screws, but only six wing-nuts to use on the screws to keep them in place. The backs are a particularly heavy metal, much heavier than the other shadow boxes. The sides are plastic. Bent plastic that doesn't really fit into where they are supposed to, at least not well. They are designed for the American stores, so they have hooks on the back that are supposed to hook into the shelving units, and then bolts are provided to use on the bottom. However, in Canada, the shelves are made different, so all the hooks on the back do is get in the way. We had to break them off in order to put the units on the shelf. They are so big and heavy that it is nearly impossible to hold them up and keep them straight while someone screws them into place. And they take forever to assemble. I spent three hours just putting them together today, and another guy helped me for most of that time. We made twelve. That's about a half hour's worth of work for every shadow box. To put in eight screws and 12 push things which take about two seconds each. Or they should, but because everything is so poorly designed it is nearly impossible to get them in. And if they can pre-assemble the 48" units, why can't they pre-assemble the 42" units? Or at least make ones that will work in Canada? Between 6:30 and 11:00 last night, all that I did at work was assemble 12 shadow boxes and then try and figure out how exactly to hang them. That includes a five minute break where I had to walk away before I started throwing things. In that time, we could have hung 40 of the other shadow boxes. I don't think we even had that many to do in the whole store.
And this is just one of many oddball things that Home Depot, or someone, has been doing lately.
You know, come to think of it, last Thursday was a bad day at work too. Huh.

Celebrate good times, come on!

Earlier this week I put exactly ten litres of gas in my car. The pump read 10.000 when I was done. I thought that was pretty neat.
I have now read through the entire Bible, every word. Well, I may have skimmed a bit through the chronologies in Numbers, but other than that, every word. I was using a 'schedule' that was designed to get through the Bible in one year. I started it three years ago. I think I'll do better this next year though.
I have seen some good movies lately. I watched Lost in Translation (starring Bill Murray) and enjoyed it very much. I also watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. That was a weird, but very good, movie. I reccommend both very highly.
Reccomend? Recomend? Recommend? I hate words some days.
I feel so lazy lately. I have slept until 2 or later every day this week. Of course, I don't get home until around 7 in the morning, so it's understandable, but it's still hard to get past the feeling of just being supremely lazy.
On Tuesday morning, I helped put some signs up at Calgary (Canadian?) Olympic Park (Plaza?). Every just calls it C.O.P., so I'm not really sure what it stands for. Except the Olympic. That I'm sure about. The signs we put up were on the Bobsled/Skeleton/Luge run. If you happen to see some of the competition this week on TV (I'm assuming that it will be on TV, maybe CBC), look for the Adidas signs at the top, as well as the AIT and Visa signs. Also, right at the top there is a sign for The Sign Guys. That's the company I work for.
I think I'm going to read the Harry Potter books soon. I may as well give in.
Say, this is my 100th posting. This calls for a celebration. Mmm...finishing off my hallowe'en candy.
Until next time, I'm going to be somewhere else.

Short, cuz it hurts to type

I stood up today and found which muscles of mine hurt. All of them. This working nights and all the heavy lifting involved sure does make life interesting. And painful. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner not moving.

The Importance of a Good Breakfast

11. Warp 10!

James stepped into the cockpit and sat down heavily beside Mel, who was piloting through a field of stars that were moving rapidly aside. It really looked quite like the special effect of the Enterprise going at warp speed. They sat together in silence for a time as James watched Mel make constant minor adjustments to the controls in front of her. Finally, she seemed satisfied enough to lean back in her chair and look over at James.
“You smell like smoke,” she said, determined to ignore the sling around his shoulder, holding his arm in place.
A shrug. “I figured it was either that or get myself set on fire.” James gave a half grin and settled back in his seat. “How on earth did you figure out how to fly this thing anyway?”
Now it was Mel’s turn to shrug. “I read the manual. It was rather quite helpful. Although I can’t find the autopilot button that it frequently mentions.” Just then, one of the streaking stars seemed to break away from the pack and come flying at front of the ship. Mel reached forward and made a few minor adjustments, causing the star to fade away again. “It turns out that the ‘computer generated images’ are far more important than Gordon made them out to be. It is a rather complicated yet absurdly simple for of navigation. The streaks that come right at us are realities attempting to pull us back into time, which we currently seem to be out of, and if I don’t steer us around them, then we will be stuck in a time that we don’t want to be in for at least four hours. As near as I can figure, the ship has to recharge for about that long for a safe journey, though the emergency reserves allow for a short and dangerous journey to any-when else. When we land it will automatically disguise itself as something that is relevant to the time, which means that it will look like a dead animal carcass in times before they used wheeled machines. And in the times after wheeled machines, it will look like a wheeled machine without wheels. Best of all, it has mammoth cup holders. We can get the largest slurpees we can imagine.”
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She merely nodded, a smile on her face.
“So, miss pilot, where-slash-when exactly are we headed?”
“Well, that’s a good question.” Mel adjusted a few more controls, avoiding yet another reality. “According to this computer-thingy, that was the battle of Waterloo that we just passed. And this,” another swerve, “was Columbus’ first steps on North American soil.”
“So we’re going backwards again?”
“I don’t think so. As near as I can tell, the time-stream is not really in chronological order. Yeah, figure that one out.”
“How big is that manual anyway?”
Mel merely motioned to a pamphlet sitting beside her on the console between them. “Not that large, but it’s very well organised.”
James picked it up and read the title: All You Wanted To Know About Time Trravel, But Were To Afraid To Ask, Or Will Be To Afraid To Ask; Whichever You Prefer. He raised his eyebrows. “Even in the future they can’t spell. How much can we trust this?”
“Seems to have steered me straight so far.”
“All right, that’s fine. But my question still hasn’t been answered. When we land, when will we be? And where?”
After a heavy pause, Mel finally sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the best plan is, how we are supposed to avoid bumping into Gordon, or what exactly we are supposed to do. You’re the saviour of the universe and time stream. Why don’t you tell me!” Obviously the strain was starting to affect her, and not for the best.
James leaned over and squeezed her shoulder gently. “It’s going to be okay, Mel. I know that this isn’t what you were expecting yesterday when you went to school, but it’s what we’ve been given. We’ll just have to deal with it as it comes.” He gave her a reassuring smile, which he desperately hoped looked more convincing than it felt.
“Now, as for where we are going,” he continued after a moment, “I suggest we head somewhere isolated where we can rest for a bit, get something to eat and figure out this machine more precisely. We’ll need somewhere isolated, and preferably warm. The when doesn’t really matter, though I don’t want to go back home, at least not yet.” They sat in silence for a bit, trying to decide what exactly would be best.
Suddenly Mel sat up, a smile on her face. “I have the perfect place.” Quickly she dialled a few knobs and threw a few switches. The streaks outside the main viewer spun around and one quickly broke away from the pack, heading straight for them. “Hold on, this could be rough.”
“What?” James gripped the armrests of the chair tightly. “What do you mean rough? As in the opposite of gentle? I don’t like rough.” Franticly he searched for a seatbelt, but the chairs seemed to be designed without any sort of restraining devices. Fortunately, James was a master of panic, so he knew exactly what to do. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!” He repeated this almost as a mantra as they zoomed in closer to the light, which seemed to be engulfing them.
“Whooo-hoooooooooooooo!” was all Mel could think of to say.
A moment later, James sat blinking and rubbing his eyes. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said before fainting.
“Pansy,” muttered Mel as she stood up and stretched her legs. Apparently this model of time machine had energy fields that prevented them from being tossed around, unlike Gordon’s machine, which had left her with a few bruises. The stomach turning feeling and the feeling of a thousand paper cuts dipped in vinegar, however, weren‘t quite so muted. Somehow, James had managed to sleep through the transition last time.
The cows huddled in the field. They had momentarily lost their targets. It was time to hire some of the best to help them out.

But where in Sam Hill have they gone? Does time travel sickness ever get better? Can they elude Gordon? Can they elude the cows? Do the cows have their own agenda, or are they just really snoopy? Who in the world would they hire? I don’t know. But I guarantee that it will be worth your time to come back. And by guarantee, I mean, at least I will be entertained by the next instalment of:
The Importance of a Good Breakfast.
Same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger time, same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger place!

Not quite perfect...Needs more ducks.

There is something interesting I've noticed about people. At least, I think it's something interesting about people. It's something interesting, anyway. Recently, I watched the movie The Blues Brothers (more on that in a bit), and I went online to check out what other people had to say. I read a review that was very favourable. And by favourable, I mean that the person said that this movie was the best movie that had ever been made, and that he/she loved it. If you read the review and believed it, then this would be the last movie that you would ever want to watch in your life because it was all downhill afterwards. And then he gave it a rating: 3.5/4. Which makes me wonder, what exactly would it take for a movie to be a four out of four? Would Jesus Himself have to make an appearance? Maybe the Pope and Mother Theresa doing a quick soft-shoe number, followed by a stirring monologue by Moses himself. Seriously. Shouldn't the best movie ever receive the best rating possible? I suppose they're just leaving some wiggle room. Because only one movie can obtain that perfect rating. Only one.
Anyhoo, as I was saying, I saw The Blues Brothers, and I have to say that it is really unfortunate that I have not seen this movie before. Frankly, I was laughing out loud regularly. It was interesting to see how different movies are nowadays, because there were many scenes where I was expecting something to happen that didn't happen, and (I assume that) it is because this move was made 25 years ago. That being said, I think there was a subtlety in some of the humour that would simply be missed these days. But that's just my opinion. Also, Dan Akroyd looks really odd because he is so young and thinner than he is these days. I give it a 8.98789897889678978976896788967888908667/9.23264323563

Thunderfunk the Superchicken, Pt 8

8. Well that was unexpected
Thunderfunk finished lacing up his giant red shoes as Straw put the final touches on his own clown make-up. They had gathered the information that they needed to put the final pieces together. The Japanese navy was sailing to make attacks on both Australia and India. But thanks to these clown suits, plans were about to change. An electronic beam would be shot out when Thunder used his squirting flower, causing mass confusion to the sonar, leaving the ship they were currently on completely helpless. When the other ships came to investigate, a mysterious torpedo accident would cripple their fleet beyond repair. Meanwhile, Straw would set up a video link with the fleet nearing India and convince them that a horrible madness had taken over the ship, and that all navy personnel were under a forced quarantine, thus stopping them from proceeding any further, and in fact sending them back to their home port. By the time they discovered the truth, the timing would be thrown so far off that there was no possibility of a successful attack on their part. It was his best plan ever. Thunderfunk cackled evilly.
“No I don’t.”
…
Yes he does.
“No I don’t. This is ridiculous. A clown suit? Do you even have any clue what you are doing? None of this makes any sense. Frankly, I’ve been feeling pretty weirded out by all of this since chapter three. If you ask me, you have no idea what is going on, and so you just hope no one will notice. This is very sloppy, and I refuse to be a part of this.
Seriously, it is fairly obvious what I would really do. If I’m so evil, and so smart, it would be child’s play to fake a new set of orders from the high command, or whatever you want to call them, changing their sailing orders. Since I’m evil, I would probably make up some sort of story about the other fleet going rogue and they would have to go attack them and stop them. And we would send one to the other fleet saying the same thing about the fleet we are with. They would meet somewhere halfway between and blow each other to bits. Then we would go on to the other armies around the world and stop them. Heck, I bet you haven’t even decided on which armies we would be facing. You’re pathetic. I’m going to my trailer.”
Hey, that hurts. Come back here, you can’t just leave. Straw, talk to him!
“Sorry, but I think I agree with him. This is obviously a second rate production, and though I’m grateful for the chance to do the best with what I’m given, I think it would be best for everyone if we all had a vacation and took a break from each other. Let our heads clear and tempers cool off, you know? It might be best if you concentrated on that time travelling story, with what’s-his-face. Jimmy jimmy?”
James.
“Right, him. There seems to be a bit more clarity and purpose there, so I think that would be best. Besides, the time off will give us all a chance to concentrate on our hobbies. I’m going to collect more buttons of cartoon characters. I think I’ve got a good lead on a Poppa Smurf. I’m excited.”
Um, okay. Well, it’s been fun.
…
I guess that’s it for now. Due to creative differences, Thunderfunk the Superchicken is on hiatus until further notice. Please continue to tune in on Mondays for the further adventures of James, Mel, Ruds, and the entire crew in The Importance of a Good Breakfast. Until then, farewell.
Hey Frank? Yeah, it’s me. Look, Thunderfunk and James both just walked, so the projects on the shelf for now. No, I don’t understand how this could have happened, it just did. All right, I’ll try, but don’t hold your breath. Look, I’ll call you later, I think I’m still typing. Yeah, okay. Give my love to Carol and the kids. Oh, right, Cindy. Sorry. Yeah, bye.

Just watch out for ceiling fans

Today I slept until 3:30 in the afternoon. Before any of you start mocking me for being lazy or are disgusted/jealous of my late sleeping, I urge you to remember that I was up until 7:30am. Before any of you start mocking me for having nothing better to do than simply stay up until all hours of the day or are disgusted/jealous by my staying up until all hours of the night, I urge you to remember that I was working from 7pm last night until 6:30am this morning. We are doing some refits (a refit is when we change all of the old signs/banners to the new style) at Home Depots around Calgary, and that means we cannot work during the day when the store is open, especially when we are doing banners because we need to use the skylift for those. I spent significant amounts of time twenty feet above the ground on a lift that only swayed when you moved. Or breathed. Or didn't move. It is very stable, but it doesn't really feel like it when you're up there. All in all, this could be a long week. Also, the old banners that I took down were REALLY dirty. I was wearing a blue shirt and blue jeans, and by the end of the night, they both looked like a grey/brown colour. It was nasty. And fun!