Enjoying my "evening" as I knit my purse, eat lukewarm clam chowder (I didn't heat it up hot enough but was too lazy to go finish the doo) and wheat thins, sip decaf tea, and watch my season two discs of SG1. It feels like every evening is just a grand waiting game for my bedtime of four o'clock pee em to occur (though I generally fall asleep hours later - reading and all), though today seems extra pleasant for some reason.
I got to feel like a ninny yesterday as I got my official first lesson in hand jack operation. I'm not talking the regular floor jack wheeled things, I'm talking hard core motorized fork lift doo-hickey. Manager Ted gave me instructions as I wheeled, bonked, squealed, and mechanically sashayed around receiving. It was terrifying and embarassing - I felt as if I were suddenly twelve years old again and my arms and legs had outgrown me. I ended up lifting and placing a bale of cardboard ontop of another without any casualties.
One of our giant, creepy lights went out - which causes receiving to smell like scorched rubber. We have no ladders taller than ten feet, so Ted put a pallet onto the tongs of the jack and had me lift him to the ceiling so that he could unplug the light. About five feet from the floor, Ted accidentally leaned back on the pallet, causing it to shimmy on the tongs and his arms to flap in the air in panic. "If that would have happened at the top, I would have crapped my pants," he said.
I also managed to get the entire first season of Buffy for ten bucks. Score. I've been reading oh so many of you making Buffy references on my friends list, so I have been craving me some.
I still haven't seen that musical episode, dagnabbit.
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