I got to bed about 4:15 this morning and read some of Hush Money, a Spenser novel by Robert B. Parker. Jess called around 4:30 to say that she’d be late (click HERE to read why). I read a little more, then went to sleep. I must have been COMPLETELY out of it, because I don’t remember her coming in. I vaguely remember rolling over at some point after the sun was up and asking her when she got in. I didn’t set the alarm – intentionally – and slept in. That’s the ONE benefit of working 5:30 – 2am today: Oversleeping was not too big a concern. I woke up somewhere around 12:30 or 12:40… and then just laid there. Staring at the ceiling. Watching the clock. Contemplating the mysteries of navel lint. Whatever. Around 1:10, Sandi called to ask me to look up some flight information for our Disneyland trip – their DSL connection was being temperamental. This was as good a reason as any to get up, so I did.

After looking up the flight details, I took care of the daily hygiene ritual and contemplated the mysteries of navel lint again. No, that’s not right… Oh, yeah, I contemplated what I wanted to eat for “breakfast.” Half an hour later, I still haven’t eaten. Oh, well.

Sixteen more work hours and it’s the weekend. I have no idea what fun our Ops Manager who does the supervisor schedule has planned for me next week… and I probably won’t know until Thursday. Hopefully, she will remember that I had asked for this weekend off – since my parents are coming out for a visit. This leaves the potential for one of three things:

  • I won’t get the weekend off and have to snap my foot off in someone’s ass.
  • I’ll get the weekend off and won’t have to snap my foot off in someone’s ass.
  • I won’t supervise next week – and will be keying – so, it won’t matter… but still snap off a little something, for good measure.

I’d better get something to eat and finish getting the work duds together. OH YEAH! That reminds me…

I wanted to take a minute to rant about a pet peeve: PERSONAL SPACE. I am a FIRM believer that everyone is entitled to their own space. I like to think of it as a personal bubble that is not to be invaded unless you give someone permission to enter it. Friends and family are generally okay to get within contact range without asking. People that you are only passingly familiar with? No. Back off. If I want you inside my space, you’ll be invited. Yesterday, I decided to wear a pair of braces (suspenders) with my pants instead of a belt. NOTE: It is just WRONG to wear a belt AND braces together. Period. I had at least two people who complemented me on them… and then came up and felt them. *GRRR* Rather than read them up one side and down the other, I rode out the wave of irritation with all the grace and aplomb I could muster. I even thanked them for the complements. *sigh* Sorry… had to get that off my chest. What I really wanted to say was: Please, don’t assume that just because you THINK that you know someone that you are automatically granted access to their space. Everyone deserves the right to have whatever sized boundaries that they choose – or even need – between them and the next person. For some, it’s a few feet; for others, a few inches. Mine seems to be about a foot… and then you’re crossing the DEW (Distant Early Warning) Line. After all, does it really take THAT much extra effort to ask?

::: end of rant :::

For more information on where the term “DEW Line” comes from, click HERE

That’s it for now.

Peace.