Devil's advocacy bedamned!

Its a leisurely Sunday morning, somewhat overcast, and here I sit.

Slacker is here, too - or at least he was - in his spot behind the computer, and in the other room M is soundly slumbering, her sleep mask askance.

(Okay, I don't really know if its "askance" but I couldn't pass up the assonant opportunity)

(Yes, I am a dork)

Moving right along...

The past week on the homefront was relatively uneventful (no thefts, vandalism, etc. - I did do some violence to myself, impaling my shin on the corner of a low concrete wall and filling my pant leg with blood, but owing to a recently growing pattern of self-abuse, this is hardly noteworthy. I am happy to report that my black eye and the puncture wound in my left arm [both from seperate events] are now completely healed. No, I'm not kidding).

Beyond the homefront: M ended the last quarter, swimmingly*, while I assisted in the successful completion of our inventory at HUGE Supply.

*Soap Box Moment - one possible exception to "swimmingly" might be M's Marketing Class - for which SCNM seems to have thrown out all humanistic and individualistic considerations in lieu of cutle little rhymes, jingles or any other bright flashey things that could possibly ensnare the minds of the slobbering masses. Example:

Don't like your life?
Filled up with strife?
Considering the knife?

Change it with...

(big smile!)

Dr. Smith!

(pronounced "Smythe")

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Maybe they could even do cooperative advertising with someone like Nike or McDonald's - really get the message out there!

Blah, blah, blah.

So I thought I might have to count little widgets all weekend but inventory went better than planned and we actually finished ahead of schedule. Oh, sure, we had the obligatory computer systems crash at 4:15 pm on Thursday, fifteen minutes before we were supposed to start counting -and- it was down for most of Friday, but they were able to circumvent this little problem and we were able to avoid working the weekend. Yea!

Now, having expected to work the weekend, getting that time back feels like a little gift.

Of course the devil's advocate in makes me wonder if I'm not a fool for being thankful - thankful for what was already mine - especially since it was bequeathed by the faceless grey monolith that is my employer.

On the other hand, when I got my stolen truck back I couldn't help but feel grateful.

The stringy-haired, crack-headed thieves I'd imagined were morphed into mere agents-of-fortune once the truck was returned, and I even came to feel a strange sense of connection with them after finding an old black-and-white baby picture they'd left in the glove compartment.

In a way, I am grateful to those guys. I have a newfound appreciation for that little purple pickup - with its cracked windshield and 180,000 miles - and a few other things as well.

In fact, right now, the sun is setting, Lou Reed is "beginning to see the light" and I am feeling pretty goddamn mellow.

So, yeah, I could bitch about work and the faceless corporate entity that reigns o'er all, but... f*ck it.

Let's just save that for another time.