Karma's Bitch

That was me Friday evening.

It all started with me having nothing to do at work wanting to go home early. I managed to talk my boss into letting me go home. It would boost our daily efficiency (which the higher-ups are really really keen on right now, even though their program/s to track this is so fubar-ed, it's not funny) by having less man-hours for the shift. And I'd been doing my job so well that no one was even making eye contact with me lest I point out something else for them to clean (ha).

So, anyway, he said yes and I danced a little happy dance (in my head). I ran an errand, off-the-clock, and then headed home. Insert Karma's bitch-slapping of me here.

I had a little accident.

Seriously, I had a minor traffic accident less than two blocks from work.

I had nothing on in the car to distract me. Radio was off. Cell phone was ... ok, cell phone was on my leg, but I wasn't talking on it. Or texting. I had it on my leg because it was gouging a hole in my hip pocket. Eyes on the road, hands on the wheel, seat belt on (always), etc. I was even doing the posted speed limit (30 mph).

Then this big red Dodge pickup truck appears in the oncoming lane. And decides he needs to turn left. In front of me! Without signaling!

My thought process went like this: OMIGOD! While my foot automatically slams the brakes (thank the powers that be that I changed them just a few weekends ago. Yes, I changed my own front brakes, with some help from my uncle.) and my hands yank the wheel as far left as it will go. The next semi-coherent thought while I'm swerving like hell is Don'tletmehititdon'tletmehiDAMMIT!

Then there's the sound we all know and dread. Screech/crunch! Accompanied by a bit of a jarring. Luckily, no one was hurt. It was a minor fender bender.

I got out of the car to check out the damage. My front bumper is cracked a bit, the hood has some denting, the front fender? (right over the wheel) is pretty banged up, and the passenger door won't open. Thought: SHIT! I was thinking about a new car, but NOT YET!

The other driver admitted fault (and it's in the police report) so my insurance won't go up. Did I mention that no one was injured?

Moral of the story: If you're going to worm your way out of work early on a Friday evening, think twice because Karma is there playing hi-lo with Fate as to whether or not to smack you down a peg.

(ETA: And I gained 3 years of age, thanks to the local paper....)

Rewarding

Sometimes, I hate my job. Most of the time, it's just a means to an end. And then there's the occasional highlight.

Two of my coworkers are returning to their home country. They'd been at the plant for a few years (I'm ashamed to say I don't know how many for sure) and, as far as I could see, were liked by everyone. They always came in on time, rarely missed, did the job, and didn't have a problem with anyone.

Yesterday (Friday) was their last day of work. My boss stopped me early-ish in the shift and gave me a 'side project'. Now, this phrase can be anything from walking the department and pointing out all the housekeeping things we all just don't see to helping word an email. This time the project was to collect a dollar from everyone willing, then go to the store and buy cupcakes and soda so we could have a miniature going-away party for the couple. It was so sweet! And I'm not just talking about the cupcakes.

Here's a helpful hint. If you want to see fully grown adults look like they're five again, hand them a cupcake with fluorescent icing. It's kind of hilarious.

One year later

Okay, here I am, one year since starting this blog. We've seen lots of evidence of insanity. And some new experiences. Some memorable events. And, hopefully, I've given my three readers some good chuckles when they needed it and sometimes when they didn't.

The following photos detail a trip I made yesterday. To the land of "What-the-hell-were-we-smoking?!"


Ames and I wanted to try out something we'd seen/read about a long time ago. Duct tape dressforms! Since buying a 'real' dressform is slightly out of our budgets. Plus, do you actually know anyone who is the same shape as one of those things without some heavy duty corsetry??


These photos are of the making of Beige Babe (har. My superhero name.)

Needless to say, for our first try, these suckers weren't too bad. Mine still needs a bit of tweaking, like getting it onto the stand so it isn't sitting on the floor confusing the cat.

You can also see some of the goofy entering the hilarity that was us. Did I mention that we were stone sober at the time?


Oh, and how often can you fondle your own boobs when they aren't attached to your body? I couldn't resist.

Ames might or might not share her photos and it isn't my place to share what's hers, so hold your breath (heavens know we did in process).

Not bad for using vaguely-remembered blog posts and internet searches, huh.