Tuesday, July 19, 2005


So, old man weather got me back for complaining. It's not my fault, Tommy Skilling does too good a job for me to ignore.

I arrived at the office yesterday, 'round 2:30, to drop off some parts and paperwork. We lease half of a one story office-park-style building from the good folks at Aramark, and the other half of the building is vacant. Thus, so is that half of the parking lot vacant- a mighty, suburban style, freshly sealcoated behemoth. I got out of my car, folder full of paperwork in hand, and went to the back seat to grab the box I had to return. Now this box had something on it- I never figured out what it was, just that when I had carried it out to the car it got something on me. So I was trying to pick up the box in a way so as not to ruin my shirt. At the same time, I was thinking to myself, "gee, it's awfully breezy today- if I weren't standing in this awful hot parking lot in a shirt and tie, it would be a pretty nice day for how hot it is." Moments later, I dropped the folder. Like any good catastrophe, there was one of those hope-dashing pauses. "Wow, the folder stayed closed. I hope I can grab it before the papers fly away." Not so lucky. So there I am chasing four 4 part carbonless forms (they fly good, like a tumbleweed) across this parking lot. Luckily there was a ridge of shrubberies about half a furlong out and I was able to grab all but one there. I also got tar all over my hands because when I grabbed one of them, my finger sunk right into a freshly tar-filled crack.


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