So I guess it’s about time for an update, eh?

I apologize for not having posted anything in a while…. actually…. No. No I’m not. I do what I want!

I’d like to tell you all that I’ve been on a hiatus, a vacation, or some fantastic soul searching trek around the world. But I haven’t. I’ve been working and sleeping. I mainly work at Caribou Coffee from 5 AM to 12 PM. Meaning I’ve been getting up at 3:30 every morning. And now you may be wondering why I don’t get online and at least blog or chat a bit at work.

After work I sometimes take a nap. But I mostly lay on the couch and watch daytime television. By that I mean that I watch non-cable television. (Cable be expensive when you be poor.) Don’t worry. I don’t watch just anything that pops on the tube. I’m very selective in the trash I rot my brain on. My viewing selection is that of The Maury Show, Jerry Springer, and The Steve Wilkos Show. That’s right. It’s the cream of the crop in the realm of trash TV for me. It’s actually become a bit of an addiction. Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?!”. Please understand that there’s a reason for this. I really can’t say that it’s a good reason.

You see, every time I watch those shows and their “guests”; I feel a little better about myself and my life as down in the dumps as it is. Four hours (because Maury plays two shows back to back) of watching some of the most disgusting, degenerate, criminal, and useless human beings walking the earth…. and I feel AMAZING afterwards. I can proudly strut around because I know that I AM NOT THE FATHER, I’m not living in a trailer park jobless cheating on my one toothed ecliptic hooker girlfriend with her mom, and I don’t have a bald guy yelling at me telling me that I am unfit to sit on his stage. Sometimes it’s a relief to see how the creepier half lives. Other times it’s damn amusing.

MONDAY MONDAY MONDAY!!
Monday night was quite interesting for me. My sister Brittany summoned me from the dark dwellings of my basement. (That’s where my computer is.) Once I ascended to the stark blinding lights of the living room she dropped surprise on me. Here’s a little back story. Just a little…

When I was 18 my mother informed me that I had a younger half sister the same age as Brittany. I was also told that she lived in Maryland. Her name is Megan. My mother told me that the reason we didn’t know of her was because my father made a deal with Megan’s mother not to contact her. And thus I came across the assumption that I would never meet her.

On Monday my father received a call at work. On the line was a young woman who told him that she was his daughter Megan. She had been searching for him since she was 15 years old. Once my father got her information and got off the phone with her he immediately contacted Brittany. You see, Brittany had been searching for our half sister for a while. Once she got the news she informed me that night. And there was much happiness and dances of joy.

(I will not demonstrate this dance for you due to the fact that most of you are unworthy of seeing my moves. But if you happen to be a hot chick over the age of 21 I might do my “Dance of Seduction”. Let me know if you are.)

We became even more excited when Megan told us that she planned to come to Maryland, and wanted to meet all of us.


Wednesday
Wednesday was of the suck.
Monday my manager went on and on about how it was going to snow on Tuesday and how much she loved snow. I reminded her that I don’t work on Tuesday. Her reply was, “Good. Now you can sit by your window and watch the pretty snow fall.” And to that I informed her that:
1. Guys usually don’t do that.
2. Dark Overlords definitely don’t do that!
3. I HATE SNOW!

Well, Tuesday rolled around and there was snow. I stood by the window for a quick second and cursed the snow in all of its cold fluffiness. After a bit of channel surfing and more cursing of the snow I came across the news. The weather forecast explained that there would be freezing rain Tuesday night and it wouldn’t let up until Wednesday afternoon. Again I cursed the snow.

3:30 AM on Wednesday I rolled out of bed, got ready for work, opened the front door, and viewed a winter wasteland. Everything was iced over with a compacted layer of snow beneath. The ice in the streets was so thick it wouldn’t give way beneath the weight of cars and trucks. If it did, it just compressed it more, and the freezing rain made sure to fill in the gaps. I thought to myself as how best to get to work. My brain plotted a course that seemed sane and safe. “Why the hell were you trying to go to work in that weather?!” you may ask. Because I’m poor. And when you’re poor you will go to work when it’s raining hellfire. You need that paycheck to be as full as it can be.

It was slow going making my way out of parking lot. I got a good ways away and was making progress towards a main street that I knew would be free and clear. I nearly made it to Liberty Road when my car slows and I hear the wheels spinning. When the car came to a complete stop I let off the gas. You see the street I was driving up was a side street with a hill. Hooray for hills! I threw the car in reverse and let it drift back while steering to the side of the street. With sigh I put it in park, put on the parking break, turned the wheel to angle the car towards the grass if it started to drift, lit a cigarette, got out, and walked 30 minutes in the freezing rain back to my house. I called the shift supervisor who was to open with me and informed him that my car was stuck. He told me that he couldn’t make it in either. His court was covered in ice.

I managed to make it into work today but my parking lot is still a slushy icy mess. No salt trucks or plows came through. I can’t really blame the state of Maryland for this. They actually did their job and made sure all the main and public roads were clear. The problem here is that the community I live in is a private community. The so called “Housing Committee” here is supposed to take care of salting, plowing, and street maintenance. We pay them money for a mandatory membership. And they’re oh so quick to jump on your ass if they think your grass is too long or you can’t paint your house a certain color. But in dire situations they’re dead-sloth-slow to do what they’re supposed to do. And to that I’d like to give the super special “F-U” award to my housing committee. I’d also like to give that award to the morons who walk on the icy streets with vehicular traffic around because they don’t want to get their shoes wet in the snow on the grass.


People are stupid assholes.