Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Deceptively Bad Day

It's hard to get out of bed on Monday to go to work.  Even harder after a workweek where you could just roll out of bed anytime because you're working second shift.  Add that it's cold and the safest place you could feel is in bed, and you can see how and why it was so hard to trundle off to work.

Worse than that is something I should blog post about further.  We have a fancy (-ish) coffee machine that makes a cup immediately after grinding beans.  I swear I now understand why a coffee is better brewed immediately after its beans are ground up.  But it has been on the fritz lately, and after about a week of it being OK, it was broken over the weekend.  Knowing that there would be no cup of joe waiting for me in the break room, I had to instead get up early and leave for work early because I needed to get to the gas station in order to have enough time to buy this fake frap, get cash (for my handjob with ***e* later that afternoon), and get to work on time.  But I didn't do that.  Maybe it was the water coming out of a couple of the holes from which I wanted this fake frap, or maybe it was me taking an extra couple second shaking the snow off of my windshield screen.  But I was a minute late for work, and that's a no-no at work, and so I didn't start off work on the right foot.

And then I saw that I had to go inside the lab, which I hate, to start my day because there was no work outside.  That made things worse.  But all that morning I was spiraling in my mind.  All I could think about was this pseudo-nightmare/fantasy that I was put up for adoption, was never adopted, was about to age out of the system when my parents found me, basically bullied me into visiting them, and after caving in and flying out to Minnesota to see them, throw a weekend-long temper tantrum and essentially pick a fight with every member of a family that, in this situation, I never knew I had nor wanted to ever get to know.  I was locked in to thinking about this, man; I was making up dialogue, and my heart was pounding with anger so much that I could feel my left arm tingle.  I usually get into this mindset when bad things happen to me.  Yesterday morning wasn't great, but in retrospect, I don't think it was so bad I should have these violent ideations to get me through my workday.

Speaking of spiraling, however, my annoying-more-than-bad day did turn into an actually bad, if not shitty, one.  Once I got done in the lab, I was locked out of my computer even though I swear I put in my password correctly a dozen times.  When you get locked out, you have to have your supervisor call the IT department.  And apparently they are as short-staffed as any business in America right now, so my boss told me to just take lunch early.  I set up my alarm and close my eyes in the hopes of napping, which I really needed yesterday because I only got, get this, 2 1/2 hours of sleep.  (I slept in Sunday morning, what can I say?)  I fall asleep, I wake up, I wonder how long I've been in my car ... and then I see I should have gotten back from my lunch break 15 minutes before.  The alarm I turned on is one I use for Tuesdays through Fridays because my regimented schedule for those four days is different from the one I have for Mondays.  I turned it on, but it wouldn't have sounded because it was Monday.  Didn't occur to me to think that.  Hey, I had less than three hours of sleep, and I worked second shift all last week.

I'm running back in to work.  I get this 60-digit recovery key to input in order to get back into my computer.  I do, but I figure that I should change my password anyway.  But first I have to answer my security questions, and for fuck's sake, I apparently didn't answer them correctly, because I got locked out again.  In frustration I decided not to change my password and just put in my old one.  And I got in.  Oh, now I get in with my old password.  And don't say I must've put it in wrong before.  I entered my password correctly each and every one of those dozen tries, goddammit.

Well, that's when the bad day stopped.  My boss told me I should stay late in order to make up for my extended lunch, but other than that, everything at work was good.  And then I got home and that HJ from ***e*, then took a nap, shoveled a third of my driveway, and got a workout in.  Got home, ate a Jersey Mike's sub (they're good, I must admit) and washed it down with a vodka cran.  And now I go to bed.

But damn, yesterday morning absolutely blew.

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