bark twice if you're in milwaukee.

i feel normal again. i feel like me.

(was that ever normal? i'm sure that's debatable...)

i'm not dying. yay! and i'm not fired. yay!

i didn't even realise what a giant wad of stress that was until after i had "the talk" with my manager. and the talk wasn't that bad. it didn't really make a lot of sense, but it wasn't bad. it came right as i was eating dinner, so any appetite i had formed was quickly lost when i was asked if i had a moment to "chat."

no. i don't have any moments. i'm insanely busy and this will have to wait until i'm not busy, which by the looks of my calendar, is going to be about 2014.

on my way mike. be right there mike. can i finish my banana?

but it wasn't bad. i left the office with as much of an ass as i've ever had.

planes were late. and i can't even blame ord, which is my favorite place to blame. they were on time. the sweet ord fo brought us cinnabon (aww!) and asked me to go drinking with him, but i had to pass. i gave up drinking for lent and i have 21 more days to go.

i should have given up working for lent. i hear my manager is catholic; i wonder how that would have gone over...

21 days! that's like, forever! i may not make it!

so in our efforts to get out of work on time, me and the (temporary) fearless leader last night took it upon ourselves to clean a plane, ghetto style, with the ghetto equipment that we're allowed to have on the ramp (which i still think is a bunch of hullaballoo and is someone else's excuse not to have to clean but whatever). it was true ghetto style. short of spraying 409 on the damn floor, i've never seen such mad cleaning skillz.

that's called sarcasm, boys and girls, google that shit.

and i remember why i hate cleaning planes. people are slobs. freakin slobs. you know, keep your shit with you. don't leave your shit for someone else to pick up, that's just rude. and people leave a lot of shit. gross shit. ugh. it makes me want to go take another shower just thinking about it.

*shudder*

the only highlight of cleaning the damn plane came when my pocket started to vibrate. because the janel does love her vibrating phone, almost to the point where she doesn't love to answer... but i did. why? it was baxter.

i wrongfully assumed there were problems with the earth's gravitational pull on the east coast. i thought maybe half the united states just fell off the planet. i don't know, it could happen. i haven't watched the news in months. i just assumed that baxter, living on the eastern seaboard, would be among the unlucky victims of a change in gravity and he'd gotten sucked off the planet and into the dark rubicon of space.

actually not the case, as it turns out. alive and well, just busy. as we all are.

one returned phone call turned into nearly two hours of conversation. everything from top five movies of all time to matt damon's shoulders. turns out we're both pretty arrogant, which is only fitting. me? attracted to someone who feels that they're superior to most of the population? never.

but it was good. the conversation is always good.

good enough, in fact, that i'm considering making a day trip to meet baxter. not anytime soon, like today or anything crazy whack funky like that. no, i have to go to work today or i think i would get fired. but sometime soon.

and that's all i have to say about that.

now i have to get ready to go to work. because i have a job. that i'm not (currently) fired from.

toodles, lovelies.