Random Day in the life

You know, there are many, many subscribers to this blog. I can't quantify exactly how many, but I'm almost certain you couldn't count them on one hand.

Almost.


Two of you - (this quite possibly represents a 'majority' of my readers) have talked to me about my 'cycling' blog.

Cycling?

That really wasn't the intent when I started. But, the majority of my time these days is spent at work... and we're under dodectuple-secret-clearance for all of that information. So I really can't share that top-secret confidential information on my blog; no one would read it here. So what's the point?

Once again, I digress. But the point is - not much, eventful-wise, goes on in my day-to-day life.

And I'm going to prove it, by forcing you, at gunpoint, to read what happened to me this week. You might, very astutely, point out that you aren't "at gunpoint". That's where you're wrong. I'm in your house right now (unless you're at work). In fact, I'm in the closet right beside you with the barrel pointed at you. If you try to open the door, or - even worse - close the web browser, I'll let loose.

You've been warned.

Monday, March 31st.

At work, I've been trying to get a lot of things done. We have about two or three days to complete some tests; and we're struggling to fit everything in. Of course, things are being complicated by a myriad of other problems. Fighting them one at a time...

Finally about 4:30 or so, I leave the Erik, the afternoon-shift tech, with a gameplan, and head out....

...because I had an appointment, you see. My hair was so long, people were confusing me with a hippie (that must be the reason; I completely dismiss the claims of others who say things like 'try some deodorant' or 'you smell really, really bad').

Anyway, realizing that Mondays aren't really days that barbers usually work, and yet also recognizing that Monday evening was really my free evening for the week, I called D-Barber around lunchtime. Sure, he says, I'll be here until 5:15 or so. Odd time, I think, but set off on my way at about 4:45 or so.

I get there, and, as per the norm, there's a sign saying - "At Howell's Bar Next Door - Please come get me". I've been through this saga before; I go in, and I find out why he's over there - it's opening day for the Detroit Tigers, and, in fact, it was the bottom of the 11th with the Tigers down one run.

Anyway, he asks if we can wait until the end of the inning; I figure it's no big deal (it isn't) and watch the end of the game. Suffice it to say the Tigers lost.

And I go get my hair cut. Highlight of the day; exciting, I know.