AAAAH!

The first thing that you need to know is that I usually read these blogs outloud as I type them, I think that kinda helps me to sound more informal and interesting, well, unless I decide to read them with a British accent in which case I can be quite pompus and boring. The second thing you need to know, knowing that you are fully aware of the first thing that you need to know, is that AAAAAH... (ad noseum) is actually me screaming, several times actually. The third thing you need to know, although not nearly as important as the first two is that I've always hated using my blog to vent about "me me me, I had the worst day ever... (enter the violins)" and to specifically complain about other people who have access to this site. But, for the time being, let's assume that only articles one and two will count for the duration of this blog (okay, I kinda did that part with an accent).

I love work. Don't get me wrong and label me as a keener, but I like to feel that I've accomplished something, I hate sitting still, doing nothing, or lay in front of the televion working on my collection of cheeto crumbs that have gathered into the folds of my shirt. I just can't do it. I have to be going something, better yet something that I enjoy. I love cars. I really do, I mean I love how they look, sound, feel... I should really devote another whole section to this... but work + cars = supa-love. So needless to say I really do enjoy my job at Budget, and having a bad day there, well it means I've had a REALLY bad day.

It kinda started a few weeks ago, (for reasons unexplained the author has changed the names of the following individuals to protect the stupid): A certain someone was not allowed to talk to me as per his girlfriend's request. Normally this would be fine - but, sigh I really hate to say this, he was fun to talk to. I mean, sure, him analyzing for the millionth time over the economical cost/benefits of me choosing an English toffee over French vanilla could get tiring, or him explaining why he was uber-smart to buy his car over years (and not mere minutes, like me) was a better choice in the long run could get to be a bit much, but he wasn't like everyone else there that simply talk about drinking and getting laid all of the time, or not talking to me at all. This is the reason why I almost burst into tears/ripped his head off in the car the last time we carpooled. His girlfriend, not trusting that we were, in fact, driving to Budget at 6:30 in the morning and not making out in the backseat (as I'm sure you all know I do, all of the time), called him, at 6:30 and the two yakked as he tried (I use this term loosely) to drive stick and get us to work on time. She then went to to yell at him for forgetting that she was going to Walmart. I slammed the door in his face and then we stopped talking.

He asked me, a while ago, if I ever regretted setting them up, I said no at the time (as she was convinced I would say yes, secretly wanting him), but I was happy. They seemed alright together. Then, of course, she cheated on him three times and physically and verbally abused him, and now... well my answer changed. I regret it because it cost me a good friend, kinda two if you consider that she and I hung out before any of this.

Alright, so why am I upset about something that happened two weeks ago? Because today he spent ALL DAY on his cell. And guess with who... I mean wait until after work, there is stuff that needs to be done. The only car he did a good and thourough job preping, was his own. When he did go on a run he took the most expensive vehicle on the lot when the Shuttle is always supposed to be first choice, and then let me get everything ready for tomorrow because "we aren't working tomorrow, why should we care?" He has no work ethic, he sits around and chats, oh and sucks up to people with power. It's sickening to see who he's become.

But wait... there's more. After making a few runs to administration yesterday, one of the people I only met yesterday at head office asked me out. A divorced, with child, man over forty wouldn't give me the keys to a car to get out of there until he pleaded his case to join him for a drink in the evening. Best part: we are alone in the building and he's my only way out. Great. I get hit on a lot, mostly by the old timers who are married, and if you accepted they would probably just pee themselves. I've even had a offer that promised that ''I could drive his golf cart". This harmless joking is fine, but the whole event yesterday really bothered me. I tell my co-workers and with the exception of a few of the old guys and the one girl, they all joked about it, how I should accept and get some free drinks, meanwhile I imaged hitting them with big fat cars. Fortunately my boss took it more seriously and much to my surprise I had a meeting with the head guys in Budget today, for the record, 'Mike wants to see you, go alone, oh and take a dirty cavalier' is not comforting. It's scary, especially since once I got there he did the whole 'clear out, boys, and close the door'.

It all ended well, he said I did the right thing, and with that somehow comforting tone my father sometimes takes, he finished with 'don't worry, he won't bother you again.'

The new president of the U of A is a jerk. She came in yesterday, and pretty much all she did was flip through a rather large wad of bills, oh and looked down to me a few times and scoffed, while her secretary dealt with the car rental. Don't worry though, we gave her an Optra... bwa ha ha ha.

And then I almost hit Georges Laraque. He was bounding out of his Escalade while I was whipping around in the G35. It would have been a shame, I really like the Infinity. He, however, has been a jerk in the past and I wouldn't have felt all too terrible, not like he has to be in peak condition to work now anyway. He did manage to give me a pretty dirty look. I am always amazed by his hair. I think it's different everytime he comes in. I say him yesterday and I thought it was fat and sparse dreads, but today they looked really long and skinny. Amazing.

Oh, and I didn't get lunch until 2:00, it lasted ten minutes and then I got sent to the middle of nowhere, meanwhile my certain coworker went out for lunch and picked up slurpees... and didn't even ask if I wanted anything, and I can guarentee he didn't do it in the shuttle!

On the up side, my boss gave me $25.00. I don't know why, but I assure you that I'm alright with it.

I guess that when it's all said and done, yes - I could do nothing. I could sit around and blab into my phone all day, leave everything until the last possible moment, use old guys for their money, and hit NHL players, but I guess at least this way, no matter how crappy it seems at times, I sleep at night, I sleep very well, and I don't regret a thing.