This week has been one fucking bizarre event after another. On top of that, I can't remember the last time I got more than 6 hours of sleep on a given night. And I can't remember when I ate two whole meals in a given day (I'm not fat, but those Slim-Fast cans are simply handy, which is why I get them). These things seem to add to the surreality (is that a word?) of it all.

SUNDAY

The brakes on my car had just about had it. I noticed it a while ago, I think Sunday, when odd screeching noises started while on route 2. On top of that, I noticed that the due date for my credit card bill (which I knew was going to be larger than normal), combined with the due dates of my other bills that I haven't made advanced payments on this time around, were coming before my next paycheck. So I knew I had to go through the process of getting to the other bank that has my savings account, making a cashier's check to myself, and depositing that in my checking account at the other bank.

MONDAY

Left work on the lunch "hour" to go to the savings bank. The bank's closed. Shit, that's right, it's Columbus Day, which we don't get off at work, but some others obiously do. Off to the same ol' chain restaurant down the street that I normally frequent for dinner. I play some more of the Infocom game "Trinity" when I get home. I play it over the next few nights until I win.

TUESDAY

OK, time to do everything I was going to do at lunch time on Monday. Go to the area where my savings bank, the chain restaurant I frequently visit, and an NTB are all in the same vicinity. I pull several envelopes and papers out of my pocket at the table in the bank, organizing the finances again, then finally get the cashier's check. Off to NTB to drop off the car. Then I go to the restaurant for lunch. I make use of the free drink refills to kill an extra 5-10 minutes there. Then I go back to NTB. I wait there even longer. It's still not going to be ready for a few more hours. I'm supposed to be working! I sign a piece of paper for a ridiculously overpriced job where they probably replaced parts they didn't need to (FUCK YOU, NTB!!) and go back to the restaurant.

I really need a cab ride. Two employees that I hadn't seen before call me a cab. "They said they'll be here in 3 minutes." Try about 15 to 20. I pay for the over-priced cab back to the office. I've been out for 3 hours. Gloria tries calling me. I can see her on the caller ID. I can't answer, because I'm busy answering the questions from the incompetent contract workers. I'm not racist, but you know, there comes a point where I gotta say I'm sick of working with so many foreigners. And that's what they are, foreigners. I'm not going to use a euphamism here. Satan forbid my boss hires somebody who's native language is english, and knows all the little things, like idioms, and the fact that sighing is considered rude in some contexts.

Gloria calls again. I pick up. My head's already spinning, and I'm getting a call from somebody who's head is spinning too. She's freaking out. "Remember how I hurt my fingers yesterday with the sander? Well, they're turning a weird pink now. I wanted to call you for advice." I told her to go straight to the hospital. I try calling her later that night after work, but she's not there. Hopefully she went.

I manage to get a ride from Anita, instead of spending another $16 on a cab ride. She drops be off at the NTB before closing, and I pick up my car. The brakes work, but they feel really weird. I have to push down on them a lot.

TO BE CONTINUED...