The Inmates Run the Asylum

I keep putting off updating because I'm lazy. Here's the high points:

-My first floorset went fine. I felt like an awkward doofus because I had no clue what I was doing and only knew the two people that had interviewed me, but I survived it. My next one is Wednesday.

-Speaking of Wednesday, I had tickets to a Cubs game that night and was going to go with a guy I knew from high school, but had to cancel. There are only three home games before the season ends and I really want to go to one. I might try for the Monday night game instead.

-The complications of going to the Monday night game include having to be up at 6:30 both Monday and Tuesday to get the neighbor up, ready, and to school. The first week of this went fine. The second week he suddenly developed morning diarrhea and spent ages in the bathroom until he was informed that he didn't have a choice and he was going to have to make an attempt to get through school (his grandmother's call). I don't know the kid well enough to know if he's faking, but judging by his grandma, the kid will be going to school unless he's dead. All I know is I don't feel like going through these battles every morning. The pay is good, but not that good.

-If I do want to go to the Monday night game, I've got it all worked out with Mom for the girls' Spanish lessons. At first, they quite liked seeing Aunt Kiki three days a week. Now that they've realized I'm there to learn them up, the charm has worn off. We played review games today that they really liked, so that's good. Some days are better than others.

-The way the Monday game shakes out is such: I'd have to get up at 6:30 and get the boy to school. Come home and nap. Go to Mom's and teach Spanish, leaving by 1:30. Drive to Chicago, do the park and ride to Wrigley, watch the game, park and ride back to the car, drive home. I'd get home between 12:30 and 2 depending when the game ended and I got back to my car. I would then nap and get up at 6:30 in the morning to take the boy to school. I'd then come home and nap that afternoon before floorset. So the question is can my 32 year old self run like my 22 year old self used to? I'm kind of hoping so. We'll see.

-Apple and Pork festival this weekend. Imma get me an apple donut.

The end.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you know I pretty much submerged myself in baseball when I lost my Internet for a month and I did not surface once the Internet came back, and have been abusing my followers by subjecting them to my running commentary of the games.

Yeah, sorry about that. I'm going to try to cut down on that. It's already been made pretty clear in the house that my baseball affliction this year has reached critical annoying levels and I know it's bleeding like a severed femoral artery into my Twitter stream. It's kept me amused the past month or so, but it's time to start backing off.

More importantly, I need to stop reading what other fans are writing. I forgot what assholes sports fans can really be, and I'm not just talking about fans of opposing teams, either (though there are some real dicks out there). They say Cubs fans are the greates fans on Earth and that might be true, but none of them are showing up in my Twitter feed or on the boards I read. It's like wall-to-wall jackassery out there and it's doing nothing for my state of mind.

You know what? The Cubs lose. That's what they do. That's what they've done all year. On paper, this team should be in the playoffs and in reality, they're not. Plain and simple. Find a way to enjoy the rest of the season and give up on this "wait til next year" crap. Going in expecting your team to go the World Series, especially when they haven't been in a lifeteam or so, is a sure way to get disappointed, particularly when your team doesn't have to win to keep its fans.

Baseball shouldn't be disappointing. Yeah, it sucks when your team loses (ask Cubs fans or Astros fans or Diamondbacks, Orioles, or Pirates fans). But baseball shouldn't be disappointing. It's a game, a pasttime, a sport. It's supposed to be fun. And there are too many people around me right now that are just sucking the fun right out of it.

So, like so many other things, I'm pulling this one enjoyable thing back in and keeping it to myself so I can keep enjoying it.

I just can't have nice things.

One of my favorite Blanche Devereaux lines. Shame about Rue McClanahan. I adored her. Like I told Missy, at least she, Bea, and Estelle will live on in reruns. RIP.

I applied for a job at the bank down the street today. I've been half-ass looking for a job for a couple of months. I need some steady income, just a part-time gig to pay the bills. The money from writing is just too little and too sporadic.

It looked simple enough on the surface. I could submit my resume online. So I did. And then it told me I had to schedule an onsite test. A test that will take two hours.

Uh huh.

Look, I understand the background check and the drug test. But a two hour video test? Is this going to be like the Family Video SAT? It just seems so unnecessary for a part-time, probably minimum wage job. I know they want competent, non-thieving people, but I thought that's what interviews were for.

I prefer to be actually getting paid before I'm made to jump through hoops. I'm just saying.

I decided to make hamburgers for dinner tonight. I usually make dinner between 6:30 and 7:30. About twenty after six, I hear thunder.

I assess the situation. It seems it's going north. Terrific. I'll just get my burgers grilled real quick and be done with it.

I light the grill, make the burger patties, get the cheese ready, and haul everything outside. As I'm slapping the patties on the grill, it starts to sprinkle. Well, hell.

I get the burgers on the grill, close the lid, and feed Pete and McGee cheese in the garage. It starts to rain lightly. I get a bag of dried cat food out of the back of the jeep (we'd run out today and that is just a no-no situation in this house), take it in, and come back out to flip the burgers.

It's still raining and I have no skill at flipping burgers on a grill apparently, but I get it done. I slap the cheese on, close the lid, and take refuge in the garage with the cats.

After a few minutes, I go back out into the rain to get the burgers off the grill. The flames are spiking. The burgers will not get on my spatula so I can put them onto the plate. It's raining on my food.

I at least had the sense to turn off the grill, but I still wrecked two burgers in my haste and the rest got wet. I can never get away with grilling hamburgers without wrecking at least one of them, rain or shine.

And to top it all off, I had nothing to serve with them because the corn on the cob I was planning on grilling had gone bad.

I'm taking this as a sign that I'm done grilling hamburgers for the year.