| Wake up by the alarm clock. Press snooze button. Press snooze button again after ten minutes. Get up feeling a mixture of reluctance and duty. Shower, shave, and shit, as Bill says, except I omit the shave part. Put on the dreaded bra. Eat a breakfast I'm not hungry for yet. Give the cats a quick pet. Get Dusky off my lap since he decided to jump on me and have more than a quick pet. Hug and kiss the husband. Grab my car coffee cup and purse. Take a deep breath. Step out into the sunshine and into the van for the drive to the encaged place I've consigned myself to for the week.
Enter the scarage (as the Dean of OSU once aptly called the parking garage). Take a ticket to pay for another expensive day of parking. Walk the long "mile" into the bowels of the building, field a few elevators, and enter the assigned cubicle for the day. Take a quick look at the clock to see if I got there within a reasonable starting time. I did. Turn the computer on. Turn on the printer. Bring up the database. Wade through all the different passwords for everything. Then sit at the desk and look busy while waiting for the phone to ring. Answer the ringing phone. Field the questions that I can answer, pass the buck on the ones I can't. Read the Duties for the Temporary Worker for the umpteenth time trying to glean something out of it that I can do for the moment. Count the hours till the day is over. Yep, the work week has started. Funny how easier it was to come in to work knowing that this would be my last week. It was still draining and tiring knowing I had to go somewhere and beat the clock but the weight that had been barreling grooves in my shoulders was gone. "I can do this," I thought to myself. "Yep, I can do this. . . . . . when is lunch again?" (To be continued...) |