Seems like the Tri-county area of southeastern Michigan got its first genuine snowfall this morning. Which was great, cos I love nothing more than waking up to see my car buried in about five inches of the white stuff, you’ve no idea. :-\ And to think I want to move to Toronto, where this sort of thing probably occurs far more often. Maybe I should rethink that plan.. Granted, it’s not Christmas without snow, but that’s not the sort of thing you’d want to see when you’re up before 9am, and persuading yourself to go to work. It was all so incredibly disheartening that I took a brief five-minute nap that lasted for twenty minutes. Yeah, I left the house late, but the weather was going to make me late anyway, so it’s all academic, really..
After unearthing my car with the help of my dad’s snowthrower (and subsequently getting stuck in the unplowed part of the driveway) I headed out to work, like an idiot. I should’ve feckin’ called in. The roads were pretty dodgy throughout my neighbourhood, seeing as that Detroit’s DPW doesn’t get their shit together until noon-ish, but it wasn’t altogether bad; at least until I reached the Michigan Left that I needed to go the proper direction. Remember how I’d said that DPW was on holiday? Well, they hadn’t plowed the turn lane, so consequently, my car got stuck. For three minutes. I got out of it unassisted, but that delayed me more than it should’ve..
My musical accompaniment on my slog westward was ‘Non-stop erotic cabaret’ by Soft cell, and two self-burned Cds. One of the Cds contained a song by Ruins, that Japanese noise-rock duo that sings entirely in Kobaian. Kobaian, if you’re not familiar with it, is a ‘fictional’ language devised by French madman maestro Christian Vander, lead singer/despot of the prog rock band Magma. I thought to myself, you know, I don’t know enough Kobaian. I don’t know any Kobaian. Hrm. Perhaps I’ll get onto that after I’ve learned Japanese, German, French and Latin, in that order. And maybe Esperanto. That’s The Language of the Future, y’know.
Despite all the complications — when I attempted to slow down to make the right to enter the parking lot, I simply skidded past it instead — I arrived at work only about half an hour late. I worked dutifully, meaning that I tried, for the most part, to not sound noticeably sarcastic over the phone. I didn’t say I was successful, but I did try, for about twenty minutes..
Then at 11.30 we had our office potluck / Secret Santa Gift Exchange Extravaganza. When we all drew names last week, I picked someone that I’ve never spoken to before during their five weeks of employment at our office; all I had to go on is that her name was Cathy, she’s middle-aged, and her cell has an annoying ringtone. So last night, I rummaged thru mum’s ‘stock gifts’ selection (for occasions such as these) and chose a blank book with black sheets and a gold gel pen, as I thought it would be innocuous enough to pass as a decent gift. Wouldn’t you know it; the silly bint didn’t even show up for work today. 😛
Apparently Pam, our resident Paris Hilton lookalike, had gotten my name. Heh, funny story: About two days ago, I was in my cubicle when one of the supervisors-in-training approached me, saying that the person who drew my name for Secret Santa had absolutely no idea as to what I would like, as going by my appearance & demeanour, that what I’d be into is so out there that my Secret Santa would have no idea where to even start looking for something for me. I literally laughed out loud, as I’d pretty much expected that. I mean, come on. So my supervisor handed me a piece of paper and told me to write down five things I’d want.
1) Queen’s Greatest Hits Cd
2) BestBuy gift.cert
3) Borders gift.cert
4) Fight club by Chuck Palahniuk (book)
5) The bell jar by Sylvia Plath (book)
So I got a $15 BestBuy gift certificate. 🙂
Round 4pm, I jetted out of there, after getting a box of miniature KitKats and two (!) hugs from Dianna, our resident sexy receptionist. And that’s pretty much it!
O, and whilst I was waiting at a sushi bar for my order to be filled, some drunken Eastern European man wanted me to take my coat off cos he didn’t like wool. At least, that’s what I think he said. See, I knew I should’ve studied Kobaian before Japanese
