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Today was the sort of day where despite waking up swiftly and decisively at a relatively reasonable hour, and getting caffeine, and finding a parking spot on the first floor of the garage, something little like the shuttle swooping through and then not seeing me frantically waving at it was the sort of thing that I took personally even though I rationally knew that it was just one of those damned things, as in, one damned thing after another.
Now, there is a lot of construction going on. This has unfortunately resulted in the temporary closure of the (really quite far enough for someone with endurance issues and a cane) direct path from the central garage to my building, and requiring the use of the path with all the fucking stairs. Also unfortunately, this has coincided with my hip feeling very out of sorts and like it just needed something somewhere to have a good pop, for about 48 hours. This did not help getting in, when the next shuttle came around.
So I was under a bit of stress with the shuttle, because there was the burrito I needed to get before the cafeteria closed, and the meeting I needed to hit after that. Though once I got most of the burrito inside me, I felt a lot better.
I got a good chunk of work done, then realized that I should probably think about getting home. The direct path was still closed, and I was still in pain (a little less, after the ibuprofen, but still significant amounts). I realized it was a quarter to six, and the shuttles stopped running at six.
Experience told me that the shuttle going thattaway was the wrong direction. So I waited for the next shuttle. Which should have been less than 10 minutes. And waited. And waited. And called security. Who told me that the shuttles stopped running at five, and that the last one would have run about 10 minutes ago (at six). (Yes, that is an hour disparity in the times that this one guy said.) "I was kind of counting on getting the shuttle to the garage," I said. "This is going to be rather unpleasant." So I started walking, having again taken it personally.
I didn't get very far before everything caught up to me and I called security again in a flood of tears, asking if I could get an escort to the garage because I wasn't confident of my ability to do it without falling over. The dude who showed up in the golf cart was in fact the guy who had responded to the call about the unsafe situation with the fire pit and those engineers with idle hands that one time. I was still in that sort of soggy and slightly hysterical state where instead of sobbing you giggle, but I pulled myself a little more together, and we zoomed off in the golf cart. He pulled up by my car and saw me safely off.
When I'm in tomorrow, I will have a few things to say about the shuttles, and the two interactions with security. Some good, some ... less so. (The shuttle stop in the garage is no longer clearly marked from every direction. There is no curb to step up from in the garage. Security doesn't know fucking when the shuttle service stops. The last shuttle pulled up shortly after 5:45, waited a few minutes, cruised by the stop, and parked. The first security guy was completely fucking incoherent and not really helpful, not that I was much more coherent. The second security guy was helpful despite my incoherence.)
Instead of going straight home, I popped in to Costco, because sometimes increased food security and staring contemplatively at power washers is a balm to the soul. (I did not buy a power washer.) So now I have 4/5 of a package of raw beef chilling out in my refrigerator, and 35 cans of Orange Crush. And my crooked, creaking spine.
Now, there is a lot of construction going on. This has unfortunately resulted in the temporary closure of the (really quite far enough for someone with endurance issues and a cane) direct path from the central garage to my building, and requiring the use of the path with all the fucking stairs. Also unfortunately, this has coincided with my hip feeling very out of sorts and like it just needed something somewhere to have a good pop, for about 48 hours. This did not help getting in, when the next shuttle came around.
So I was under a bit of stress with the shuttle, because there was the burrito I needed to get before the cafeteria closed, and the meeting I needed to hit after that. Though once I got most of the burrito inside me, I felt a lot better.
I got a good chunk of work done, then realized that I should probably think about getting home. The direct path was still closed, and I was still in pain (a little less, after the ibuprofen, but still significant amounts). I realized it was a quarter to six, and the shuttles stopped running at six.
Experience told me that the shuttle going thattaway was the wrong direction. So I waited for the next shuttle. Which should have been less than 10 minutes. And waited. And waited. And called security. Who told me that the shuttles stopped running at five, and that the last one would have run about 10 minutes ago (at six). (Yes, that is an hour disparity in the times that this one guy said.) "I was kind of counting on getting the shuttle to the garage," I said. "This is going to be rather unpleasant." So I started walking, having again taken it personally.
I didn't get very far before everything caught up to me and I called security again in a flood of tears, asking if I could get an escort to the garage because I wasn't confident of my ability to do it without falling over. The dude who showed up in the golf cart was in fact the guy who had responded to the call about the unsafe situation with the fire pit and those engineers with idle hands that one time. I was still in that sort of soggy and slightly hysterical state where instead of sobbing you giggle, but I pulled myself a little more together, and we zoomed off in the golf cart. He pulled up by my car and saw me safely off.
When I'm in tomorrow, I will have a few things to say about the shuttles, and the two interactions with security. Some good, some ... less so. (The shuttle stop in the garage is no longer clearly marked from every direction. There is no curb to step up from in the garage. Security doesn't know fucking when the shuttle service stops. The last shuttle pulled up shortly after 5:45, waited a few minutes, cruised by the stop, and parked. The first security guy was completely fucking incoherent and not really helpful, not that I was much more coherent. The second security guy was helpful despite my incoherence.)
Instead of going straight home, I popped in to Costco, because sometimes increased food security and staring contemplatively at power washers is a balm to the soul. (I did not buy a power washer.) So now I have 4/5 of a package of raw beef chilling out in my refrigerator, and 35 cans of Orange Crush. And my crooked, creaking spine.
