Concussed in the Back

er something like that.

Hey! I've decided to be punctual again. I realized the propensity for staring at my car clock (set 11 minutes fast -- it works!) while speeding -- gas meter hovering on empty -- toward whatever destination i'm about to be exactly 10 minutes late for and then parking, jumping out of the car and running the final leg when my heart has no wish to palpitate this fast and my gambs are most often used in the service of WALKING to procure FOOD -- it's just no good. Plus being late induces stress and fiasco.

Fiasco-most-recent:
Tuesday. Just before noon. I'm only five minutes late to work and am in fact congratulating myself as I walk up to the restaurant only to find the front door locked. bummer. must go round to back.

Go round to the back gate. Locked. What is this?!

I start shouting the names of cooks cuz i can hear activity in the kitchen but the only person whose attention I get is a grumpy young guy who lives in the back house adjacent to the kitchen's alley. He sticks his head out his window and barks out in this hating life tone how he's trying to talk on the phone and would i stop yelling and go in through the fucking front. He doesn't actually say "fucking." He's one of those guys who doesn't have to punctuate his words with expletives and it still sounds like he's said them. cuz his heart is FULL OF POISON.

I gather he's a misanthrope. Or maybe he's just existentially dissatisfied and doesn't know what to do about it. No, at that moment he's a misanthrope and I definitely kind of hate him.

I calmly explain to Jerk that it isn't my purpose or joy to be stuck outside yelling like this and the front door idea was duly entertained, look, would he like to yell on my behalf so I can shut up or what? He barks ineffectually then ducks back into his house. After about 8 more minutes of yelling, Cuyo, the shrimp prep chef comes out but instead of taking the five steps forward to unlock the gate, he tells me to go round to the front again.

Guess what? Front door still locked.

Back to the back gate, more yelling, same cook finally lets me in.

I stomp in ranting about idiots only to see my boss and the other waitress already inside. Apparently, my boss has decided that morning to lay down the law and teach all his chronically tardy employees a big fat lesson by sealing the restaurant entrances at exactly 11:30 am and ordering the punctual employees not to let anyone in. His smugness and sense of justice served and lack of remorse make me livid. To think that all the yelling and getting yelled at and running back and forth around the building were due to my boss's inability to have a civilized conversation with his employees. Ire!!!

So i crashed around the restaurant, throwing forks next to plates and fluffing napkins, crying and calling my boss immature, and chastising him for not just stepping up and being boss enough to talk to us like adults, saying how mean it was to just let me stand out there yelling with no clue what was going on and making me get yelled at by the mr. alley asshole...
The hysteria went on for a good half hour. Then I calmed down, we talked, we apologized. Everything's okay now. I still have a job. I'm still not mature.

In other news: I was almost late for being on time to work this evening, but after I backed my car out, I had to close my garage door to keep evildoers out. It's a heavy garage door where you have to yank down on this metal handle on the inside that cuts into your hand as you grip it and i use the inside handle even when I'm trying to close the garage door from the outside because it's easier to reach. And then when you get the door partway down, you duck under and finish closing it from the outside.

For some reason, I forgot to duck and brought the garage door crashing straight down on my head. The cranian is apparently really hard b/c although i was quite positive i'd caused some nice lateral cracks, my brain remained inside my head and I was able to drive to work. Thank the goodness for skulls.

I have no feelings to talk about right now. Just woeful anecdotes that may explain why i suddenly start showing up to places early all the time and why I can't remember my name.

booooooooooo