There are many instances where I wish my hours were more like a 9-5 job, other times, I get to sleep in, have a good lunch, and then come home and not be bothered by anyone except my puppy.
But there are nights coming home from the job where I really, really want to be noisy.
Noisy as in do something like workout, watch tv, or just have someone to bitch to about my crappy shift. I tend to bee active as a way to de-stress. Being still at home with my parents, who, unfortunately for me are not nocturnal creatures and hold normal jobs that keep them working 8-10 hour days, that’s kind of inconvenient of me.
Tonight was one of my not-so-glorious nights at work. Background story: I hashed it out with my co-pilot who works my shift that she could go ahead and take a 3-day weekend for thanksgiving, as she had to travel out of town to meet with her family. Today, she let me know she wasn’t coming in to work because she had a monstrous amount of homework.
It was a crazy weekend. I can only tell you half of it, and in person, but the best part was my ten minute attempt to unlock a padlock, to re-lock a door, to which the latching device to keep the door locked once the aforementioned padlock was locked was not even attached to the door in the first place.
You may have to read that last bit again, real slow.
Oh, and none of the volunteers were there because of the holiday.
Tonight, my trusty volunteer showed up. The night was crazy, and she had to go to the kitchen to help serve dinner for a bit, but she wound up staying two hours past her normal time to help me get things straightened out.
Then she left, and my night totally went to shit.
I had to leave the office, and I realized coming back that I had locked myself out of the office, and locked my keys inside the room I had just left. Just a reminder: I work in a very highly-secured shelter. I was literally stuck between a steel security door and the front alcove in front of the office. Alone. Just little old me against over one hundred residents needing in, out, laundry soap, and whatever. I did, however, have my phone. Boss Lady answered and said she might have some in her office…the problem is, her office is two buildings over. So, I bust up in the joint, disarm the security system, and can’t find a single fucking light switch.
You may not know this about me, but I really don’t like being alone in the dark. And going through an old building with just my cell phone for light scared the crap out of me.
But I found the office, found that corresponding light switch, and, of course, there were no keys.
So, Plan B, I call Sir W. Sir W is the lead Women’s Advocate in my office, and of course, he had keys, and literally lived right around the corner. Crisis averted. He re-assured me that I wasn’t a total dumbass and returned on his way. I found out that a resident almost called the cops on me because she saw someone in the window of Boss Lady’s office. As if my night couldn’t have gotten any worse. And then my volunteer came back, with chocolate.
Just a little random baggie of random deliciousness. I don’t know what I’m going to do exactly, but that girl is getting a trophy or a really sweet gift for Christmas.
So, I tell her about my little debacle and she leaves me again, and then to top my day off, a dispute about a missing item puts my poor, sweet, chocolate-bearing volunteer in the crossfire.
I just about locked myself in the office and hid under my desk. but the shift ended, and these woes shifted onto the warden of Third Shift
So, I drove home, and needed to de-stress.
I had been texting my mom off and on throughout the night keeping her informed about my adventure, and I was under the assumption that I would have a cake waiting for me when I got home. So, for the most of the night, I imagined burying my feelings by shoveling spoonfuls of fluffy white cake into the pit of my sorrow.
I come home to this
Not what I was expecting, but being midnight when I get home, I suffered in silence. Sure, I could have been a total brat and baked that damn cake right then and there, but I do love my mother, so I just set the box back in the cabinet. I have slowly but surely become my own kind of vampire, I typically don’t go out much, but just like a normal person on a 9-5 job, my day doesn’t end the second I clock out. Typically I’ll come home, eat, or watch tv on very low volume until I eventually toss and turn and sleep. Plus, I’m typically starving.
Chocolate was not going to do it for me tonight, despite my naughty habit of skipping meals, so I peered into the fridge and decided I would try to make sausage. You may not know this, but next to sushi, breakfast food is my favorite menu.
Spawning from my secret desire to own a farm, we typically shop local when we get our meet if we don’t get it from family members who raise cattle. I will admit, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten sausage, and yes, I had to Google what finished sausage was supposed to look like, but I did it.
Look at that. Does that not just set your mouth to water? That is a glorious, triumphant skillet-full of dead cow, ladies and gentlemen!!!
The slow sizzle of the fat reminiscent of a wood burning fire place eventually took the edge off my nerves.
Thank you all for your patience, let’s get on to business:
I finally got the stockings finished. Mom went ahead and felted them tonight, (I guess I can’t be too bitter about the cake after all), and all I have left is the easy part: Names, Years, hooks to hang it on, eyes, noses, and ornaments on my stout Christmas trees.
This was definitely a challenging project, but I enjoyed it. Taking a picture and making a crazy re-construction is something I am definitely feeling accomplished about. I’m thinking I may re-figure a graph for the Christmas tree and put it up for next year, in the off chance that I ever need/decide to do one again.
I also have a boat load of fiber coming in the mail from Kentucky some time this week. I’m dying to get back into dyeing, despite the cold weather. I have seriously been neglecting my wheel, Scarlet, but I plan to remedy that real quick.