I'm not in a particularly good mood, tonight. Have you ever booked two days off from work, three weeks in advance, and then been told two weeks later that you will receive neither of your requested days off? I really can't begin to tell you what a strong sense of employee loyalty this inspires.
Wednesday and Thursday technically being considered my weekend, I'll be spending the weekend on the road; my dad recently moved out to Oak Lake, which is a few hours away, so my siblings and I are going to load up into the car and go see him. So I'll be packing up at the crack of dawn, driving for a few hours, staying the night there, then driving back in the early afternoon the next day to be back here in time for the Folk Festival.
Of course I'm going to the Folk Festival! I've got a weekend pass! What did you think I'd wanted the two days off for?
So I have to get back on Thursday in time to go almost directly to Bird's Hill, which is where I'll be until at least midnight or one -- then my schedule through to Monday goes work all day, Folk Fest, work all day, Folk Fest, work all day, Folk Fest, work all day, inevitable collapse. Worker morale is not going to be my strong suit this weekend, no.
I've got a column upcoming in this Thursday's Uptown, so watch for that; I really have no idea when I'll find the time to mention it otherwise, so I'm bringing it up ahead of time. And once I've got more time on my hands I'll post some primo highway-driving summer songs for you guys. Oh, geez! I'd better go get pictures of the One Great City signs, too, before the city destroys 'em.
I keep meaning to post about the sign thing, so remind me about it when I look better rested. For now, though -- sleep! I'm going to need it!
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Slurpee stories in the Freep for two days in a row, including an item about Winnipeg possibly losing its Slurpee capital crown, and no comment from you, the oracle of all things Slurpee and murder?
God, I know! This is maddening!
I've been both home and awake for a total of three hours or so in the last four days, four days which have also seen me A) drive across the province twice in my twenty-year-old Volvo, B) squeeze as much time out of my Folk Festival weekend pass as possible despite having to work on the days I'd booked off three weeks ago, and C) goggle in bewilderment as my mother has two spectacular breakdowns with two different vehicles in the span of twenty-four hours because McPhillips Toyota is apparently staffed by gibbering subhuman nincompoops convinced that no courtesy car could ever need an owner's manual or a jack or anything like that in it.
As you might imagine, I've a bit of writing backlogged right now. Patience is the key! For myself, right now, if nothing else!
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