Ramblings Post #78
Life is like a cookie. Or like a cheese log. Or like an oyster. Or a box of chocolates. Or maybe even like a ice cream sundae with caramel and whipped creme. Well, not really, life is like life...and that about sums it up. There you go, reality for Christmas. And I didn't even wrap it.
I've calculated that over the years, since I've been working at my present job, I've not used upwards of 90 vacation days allotted to me, out of the possible around 120 or so I should have had. To put that in context, if the days rolled over - which they do not - and took them all starting in January, I would have to come back to work until the second week in May. It maybe for this reason, people think of me an a workaholic. Or at least Sporty used to.
These holidays are no different. The, for lack of a better term, gentleman who fills in for me when I'm out is off and so I'm stuck. In the office, watching the hours flit by I wonder how soon it will be before my brain turns to mush. They've unblocked Youtube, so when it gets really boring I watch British comedies I would much rather buy on DVD, but that they don't sell in this country. Right now it's Hyperdrive with Nick Frost of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. It's Star Trek if the Kirk were an idiot, Spock an psychopath, and Star Fleet were run like a real government agency. Really a good show.
The holidays went well. Family is all well, and life is well, lifing right along.
My time with Sporty was short, but lovely. Sunday, my RP hollers at me that right after Christmas he's having a Sunday drop in, a little food, a little drink and some folks through to watch the Falcons game...or rather, let the Falcons game play in the background while we play cards (spades, bid whist, whatever). A little earlier that morning however, Sporty hit me that we'd get together as soon as she is out of church, so I'm planning on doing two great things - seeing her AND having brunch, my favorite meal. But she hasn't hit me by eleven, so I figure I'll run over and show my face at my RPs, and then roll out to see her when she calls.
The drop in doesn't drop, but rather avalanches. People just keep showing up, and instead of the 10 or so folks I thought would be dropping through, it's 35 or so people. But I'm a romantic (or sucker, your call) and although there are plenty of women there, I hit up Sporty around 2pm and tell her to "remind the Reverend that she is going to church again next week, so he doesn't have to explain the whole God thing today". I thought it was funny.
So she invites me over to where she is right then. And in the midst of a party, a nice little set where the ratio of men to woman is heavy in my favor and everyone is festive...I get my coat and walk out the door.
Life is about Priorities.
Over there me and her talked and talked and hung out and watched the game and got accosted by small child and, well at least for me, basked in the personal warmth of seeing someone you wanted to see. She liked to little book I bought her for Christmas, and the little book that I made and it was as an enjoyable a two hours as I've ever spent. As we hugged in the street saying our good byes it was like we didn't want to let go. And she told me love me...or rather she shouted she loved me from the curb as I got into my car, as though she'd forgot to say it and was making sure to get it in. I shouted it back. We're out of sync...but apparently both want to get back. So it was a Merry Christmas.
I rolled back out to my RPs spot where the party was still in full swing. A head or two missed me, but most hadn't realized I'd slipped out. Spanky noticed and because she didn't know where I'd been, Serve was non-committal (for the record, Serve does not like even the idea of Sporty). Then the day just kept getting better, as the Cowboys beat the dogsnot out of the Redskins! Oh, how I need the Cowboys to end up with a No. 2 seed to end the hate, er...piss off the Cowboy haters. *insert snide cackle here*
Soon school will start again - one of my professors was nice enough to send the reading assignment the day before Christmas Eve - and work will continue as, well, work has a tendency to do. It's the end of the year, start of a new decade, a start of new...something.
By the way, I'm not really a workaholic, I'm quite the hedonist. Well, maybe I used to be quite the hedonist, but I'm hedonism semi-retirement. Or so I like to think. Maybe. But that's not important right now.
Barkeep, that really was rambling...wow. Something strong, I stop drinking on Thursday and I need to get my last licks in!