Man. Tuesday? Tuesday was a good day. Slept in. No work, as I twisted my knee bad enough the night before that being on my feet for 8 hours was a large no-no. I was well-rested. I finished cleaning my room. My room is now nigh-unto spotless. Very presentable. On top of that, my England World Cup soccer, I meant "football", jersey came in the mail, and it is very spiffy. And being an "authentic" replica (jumbo shrimp? wha?) it's actually an Umbro X-Static jersey, making it very comfy. It's washing right now, but I'll try to get some pictures of me in it. Being not made in or for the US, the sizing is actually more like it should be, but I'll rant on that a little later. My new bracers also came in. And man. Are they sweet. Medium brown leather (I'm switching over to all brown leather since my old boots finally gave out.) with, get this, copper plates on top in a scrollwork pattern! So very pretty. Check them out here.
Today? Wednesday? Not so much. 10 AM shift. Mornings and I have never gotten along. This one was no different. It didn't help that there was a line formed outside BEFORE THE STORE WAS EVEN OPEN!!! Jesus, people, it's not that important! Go home! Sleep in a little longer! Something! And there was no mid coverage today. Two openers, and then everyone else came in after 1. Which means the guy that came in at 7AM didn't get his break until two hours before he was supposed to leave. What kind of schedule is that?! The only reason the day wasn't a complete shit-fest was because I lucked up and managed to already be working on some new pcs when the new orders kept coming in. So after lunch all I did was new computers. And I pushed out about eight in that time. Bearing in mind, that a new PC setup with restore CD creation takes about three hours, and I had four hours left after lunch. So I was working on six new computers at a time at any given moment during that time. But at least I wasn't at the window so I could actually get something done. And I'm not the only one in the department wanting out. The two new guys are already asking what the heck is going on with our precinct. All I can do is shrug and point to the leadership.
Clothing Rant, Go! So Chris got some black military-style cargo pants a month ago when this whole night-time security gig started. And normally I wear an XL shirt, so Chris, trying to be thoughtful, got me some XL pants. I'm willing to bet that if I were to buy a pair of, say, sweatpants I'd buy an XL. But the military, at least, knows how to size things. Shoes, for example. I wear a 13-14 in commercial sports shoes and boots, etc. My new jungle boots are a 12 wide. Are size 12's not as big as they used to be or do the army numbers run big? And my new soccer jersey is an XXL. But wears just like all my XL t-shirts. Are we so fat here in America that we need to adjust our sizes to make us feel better as men, but the adjust our sizes so that a, say, size 12 dress is what most people would consider fat, even though Marilyn Monroe wore a 12? What's going on there?
One last thing for you guys. I have to admit that I'm finding iTunes to not suck. Not the music store, I'll have none of that. But the player itself handles my mp3's just as good as winamp did, but with far less frequent needs to update. And when it does need to update, it does so automatically. Which I like. I like stream-lined computer use. Screw micro-managing my PC. That's what Linux users are all about. I'm not a Linux user. But I also recently discovered iTunes internet radio. They have a classical guitar channel. Classical guitar! I fell in love with this particular type of music years ago when Billie first started going to the NCSA. I will admit that if it weren't for my affection for her, I might never have discovered or developed an appreciation for it, but I did. I have many fond memories of going to Escape the Daily Grind and getting a large espresso smoothie and listening to Billie play for a couple of hours, or hanging out with her at her parents' house (her still living there and all) and listening to her practice. I miss that.
still my guitar gently weeps