This week got bumpy and it was all my fault. When I lost that #@!&* Bullet Journal containing my life – things were missed – and messed up. The final deep dicking came this week as I was triple booked to go out and meet live with local people. I won’t bore you with the checks and balances that could have prevented this because that is a “how I work” thing and interesting to me and me alone. The final chunk of background you need to know is me dropping by someones business isn’t just showing up and drinking some coffee whilst shooting the shit. I go there to meet with their team and hopefully teach them some things. This requires prep, and pre-work, blah, blah, boring. So three on a three day work week is just plain dumb.
I had to rent a car for this little circus act and Hertz is not above charging double the normal rates during one of the busiest travel holidays of the year. I did check around with their competition and they are all proudly hammering the public as well so I might as well get the points I will never use. Anyhow yesterday was the last one and the longest. It went well but as I was driving home I had my final scheduled call of the week. I was being thrown under the bus on a group call by an individual that didn’t do the work we had agreed needed doing. When I pointed this out he pulled a move that placed him firmly on the enemy list. He muted their end of the conversation.
Whatever he was saying to the group of his superiors that I couldn’t hear was definitely not in support of my position. So I did the only thing I could do and that was hang up. They tried calling back a few times but I have been in fights like this before and I will let this one steep over the long weekend. I have already written the email salvo I will fire off tomorrow night when he thinks this is in his rear view mirror. You don’t need to hear anymore about my new obsession with burning someone’s career to the ground then salting the earth to make sure nothing ever grows there again. Just know that the exchange plus the events of the week placed me in a pretty salty mood.
And that is a shame as that night was Black Wednesday. A tradition that used to have us all drinking until four in the morning and compounding our poor choices with a trip to Denny’s. Couple hours of sleep and we were playing football. Most of that has gone away. Now we still gather to drink but in a friends tricked out garage. We play poker and bullshit. Its a good time. Except last night Senor Salty had no tolerance for poor conversation. I am not talking about my core group of friends as those assholes can make me laugh discussing grass growth. It was the new people who I just met that were just not funny. They wore me out.
So I threw down the smoke ball and disappeared earlier than I have ever in the history of Black Wednesday. I was full to the brim with fake conversation and I wanted no more. In good related news my hangover is proportionately less painful but I do find myself missing the football game. I think next year I will push for a resurrection as we all have sons who can do the pesky running part of the game. Happy Ruined the Indigenous People’s Good Thing Day!