Super Shuttle vs. Terrible Tuesday

Since the roommate has to get to work before the bus lines start running on this half of town, and she doesn't drive, she takes Super Shuttle. This means that they call when they are here to pick her up at the appointed time (3am) and she's not already out and waiting.

After the initial startled reaction the first day, it's become far less of an issue for me. After all, what else are they supposed to do? It's perfectly logical. I'm not such a poor sleeper that a routine disruption is going to make it so that I can't get back to sleep. I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom; I can become used to getting up in the middle of the night to tell Super Shuttle to chill out, the redhead is on her way.

And it's an excellent way to condition me out of the panic-fear-flight-fight reaction to the phone ringing while I'm asleep. Ever since 1996, if the phone rings while I am asleep, unless I know there is someone else ready to pick up that phone, unless I am so exhausted it doesn't break through, unless I am too tired and confused to find the phone, unless I make the conscious decision not to answer, I will pick up that phone. And I will be ready to do battle with someone or something, or dive halfway across the country and get my loved ones to safety. A wrong number at 8 am on a day when I'm scheduled to sleep until 11 can leave me awake getting rid of the cold shakes of reaction for an hour. A call earlier, especially while I'm sound asleep, is worse.

Today, the only reason I'm still up after they've called is that I needed to use the bathroom anyway, and I needed to get this out of my head. No shakes. No panic. No residual urge to teleport myself to the side of my beloved. It might be finally over.

It was ten years ago, and all parties involved in that ongoing summer of extended emergency are grown and gone. It's about time my body started catching up. Hooray desensitization therapy with Super Shuttle.

Work!

The (mean, cruel, and scarily accurate) theory has been put out that Hyper Phone Goon, his girlfriend Puzzle Hands, their roommate Fedora Guy, and their ride who got the warning for being out of the building smoking outside of the building all share one deck of cards between them.

This was put forth on the recollection of an incident with Fedora Guy. He was found in the briefing closet, and when questioned about his reason for being in there, he said that Trendy Chick’s counterpart, the new girl on $OTHER_SIDE_JOB, had told him to go in there and look for candy. (We wouldn’t send an interviewer to get candy, the girl’s never talked to this guy in her life because he’s not on any of her jobs, and at any rate, there is no candy in that closet.) Someone commented on this tale that he was not operating with a full deck of cards: in fact, he was down to about a quarter deck.

I speculated that perhaps the four of them shared the deck between them. The manager pointed out that Puzzle Hands Girl (who perpetually has inky hands from filling out those books of puzzles) was really really sharp when she was on task. Clearly, the group consensus was, when she was on task like that, she had all the cards from their shared deck, and we could expect cardless behavior from the rest of them at those points.

Maybe they’ll pick up an extra deck or three somewhere?

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Monitoring with Mountain Dew and cherries is a very pleasant way to spend the morning. I’m nearly through with my second monitor of the day. I am to hope that my counterpart is watching my job. Funny, it’s his shift today, and it’s still “my job”.

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Tired.

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There is this irresponsible rumor going around work that I left early because I had a hot date. Well, a date, at any rate. This is because of the makeup and hair, and I actually left on time. Well, not on time, a half hour later than I was scheduled – but – that’s life!

The Figment was looking for me last night after I left because he had an idea about energy. Trendy Chick’s counterpart told me this. I was amused: I have a pretty good idea what kind of energy he was talking about; there’s also a topic at work that goes by the name “Energy” (among other things); I’m pretty sure that she thought that he was talking about that.

The Figment has my telephone number. He could have, you know, called.

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(no subject)

Work has now seen me at the cold kind of angry I get before utterly losing it. Too mad to yell. Worse than BOfD.

(no subject)

In related news, the leftover leftovers guy takes my declaration that I am walking away as a cue to continue talking.

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Dear channel, sorry for jumping off like that. Brown out due to OMFG storm. Very fast unplug time. Wind and rain and poli