Monday, August 13, 2007

A Slow Moving Monday

This is my second attempt today to blog. I had almost finished the previous one and my computer froze up and I , apparently, lost what I had written. I am currently showered and I have taken the laundry out of the wash. Tonight, I am going to the game with my cousin. It is the Red Sox vs Tampa Bay. It should be a good game, but we're only four ahead of the Yankees. It is August and any Sox fan knows what it means when we get to August. . .. I'm not going to say it.
I worked 57 hours last week. Seven days, from Sunday to Saturday. I don't usually add up the hours because I'm working at different places, I usually just estimate what the after taxes checks will add up to , approximately. I am tired and having trouble focusing . But I do have clean clothes and that means I have options.
Yesterday , at the booth, we were busy all day long. "Slamming" as I like to call it. The only time I sat down was at lunch. I had a weird interaction with a visitor. It was a Japanese guy and his English was slow but comprehensible. While I gave him directions, he had his camera on his shoulder. I think it was on, but I figured maybe he just got used to holding it that way. It was aimed at my chest. I just figured, oh, he's just resting it on his shoulder. But No . .. .he was filming my chest while I gave him directions. I could see it in the view finder when he walked away. It was just weird. I mean, it's a big chest but it's not exactly "Perky". It was just weird. It was crazy busy and that was just weird.
Saturday, after working at the record store, my friend Marlayna and I went to see the Simpsons movie. I still watch the re-runs, so I was looking forward to the movie. I was not disappointed. Though , I think if you're a regular viewer , you would enjoy it more. We really liked it .
So, now I am sitting here trying to figure out what to wear that I can use for work and that will carry me through to the game. It may get cold later on. I can't carry a big bag. I'll think of something . . . . .


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