This week is our training week at the other testing site I work at. But, like last year, it only lasts half the week; the other half, the other half of the room we'll be working in comes in. They split up the room for Training Week because it's quieter and easier to train us workers this way. What sucks for me is that I had 2 1/2 days to bum around doing nothing.
Moreover, my parents think I'm full-time with this job (albeit temporary ... well, not like a temp job, but I've given indications that it will be temporary if I can find something "better," including lying that I had a late interview with a new job I said I was interested in after work on Tax Day, which was only an excuse for me to wait in line to file my taxes), so my problem waking up today was explaining to them why I wasn't waking up early this or next morning. (And thank goodness I had training Wednesday morning; it sucks to get up just to be done with everything by 11, but it allowed me to hand over this state health insurance application to my other testing job as well as hang out at Hooters, plus it gave me a third reason to actually roll out of bed early in the morning.) If they get their panties in a bunch over why I suddenly am sleeping in till, oh, 11, they (in particular My Father) will start nagging me over what I'm doing, where I'm going with my life, future plans, shit like that.
I should have thought about those things when I got home yesterday. But between seeing the season finale of Suburgatory and reruns of Law & Order: SVU and Nashville, I suddenly found myself wiped out. I'm still on "normal people's" schedule, and I could not stay awake to dink around on the Internet, or think of a plan to explain to my parents what I'm doing the rest of the week. So after being able to stay up for "Celebrity Whispers" on Fallon (which was a re-run, which I didn't know until I tuned in), I turned off the TV, rolled over to my side, and fell asleep.
And because I was on "normal people's" schedule, I woke up at my "usual" time of 7. What the fuck? I decided, right then and there, to not act like I was going to bed because I was so goddamn tired. So I tried so hard to fall back asleep, and I eventually did around 7:30 or so. But I still woke up around 8:30, and I think I couldn't fight my body anymore. Had nothing to do, but had to go out anyway.
Surprisingly I heard nothing outside. Were they sleeping in? Made me feel better that I could slip out unseen and unheard. But I was wrong; turns out both my parents were awake -- Mother was at the dining room table, knitting again, while Father was dinkin' around on the computer -- when I came out to "work." But, only Father asked, "Why are you going so late?"
I did think about what I would say in just a situation; I just did not come up with anything that I liked. So I blurted out the best solution I settled on: "Well, there was a glitch in the software and the papers weren't being scanned ..." and My Father either didn't give a shit or didn't understand what I was saying and tuned out after "glitch," and he just goodbye. Wish My Fucking Father would listen to me, but in this case, I think I should be glad I wasn't questioned about why I woke up so late. Maybe waking up tomorrow won't be a problem after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment