Cracking up in the wrong areas again (read: I really miss my Iori icon)
If I talk about work, it's actually been pretty good. The load for Christmas was awful and huge, but even that has been an easy handle. If I get to Marshall's, it gets easy to watch the store. Stock items, check prices, mark clearance, put things where they belong, answer customer questions--it's all brainless work. Yeah, convos with coworkers goes into sports, girls, parties, and everything else I'm not too strongly interested, but I think that's the only major drawback. I'm getting an even break. No biggie. Once I solidify a goal, I can do even better things with my time.
The qualifier is if I can get to the job. I don't even live an hour away--it's a twenty minute run on bike. Three bikes in the last week have died or been faulty to a point of threatening to hurt me. I'm at wit's end about this issue.
I really don't mind and wholeheartedly appreciate help getting to work, but I rather treasure dearly being able to transport on my own. "Why not a car, Darryl?" Simple!
- Gas: 20 min by bike is 10 by car. Waste.
- Insurance: Ga ordinance. You have it or you go to jail. I make 140 on a good week. Yeah, how about no.
- Justification: We live in a hub. Food, hospitals, medical, hobby shops--all around the corner. Pleasant Hill traffic on a good day is infuriating.
- Outright fear I have YET in my near-thirty years to possess a car that hasn't died on me or hasn't been run into the ground through family other parties. I'm so very damned tired of that runabout. It's hard to bum a ride on a bike, did you know that? Really, really hard. Tell me to get over this irrational fear after everyone else in the world have overcome theirs.
- Bills: I have a lot. A lot. A. lot.
- Upkeep: I. Can't. Afford it. And I'm not getting anyone else to foot the bill. I'll threaten my own bodily harm if they can't be conformed otherwise.
Anyway, it's something wonderful and dear for me to be able to get somewhere under my own two feet, or my own means. Circumstances I can understand, but it's a bloody friggin bike. Who has this kind of stupid luck? Faulty handlebar sets and gear sprockets that have been run down to nothing--therefore not moving the wheel with the chain? In a bran-friggin-new bike? Really?
So I'm hunting for this weekend because I really don't have a choice and I'll unjustifiably punch the salesman at Wal-Mart if I have to return one more bike after this. The circumstances are ridiculous, no matter how real they are.
And little does fate know it has to concoct better plans if it wants to break my legs.
The qualifier is if I can get to the job. I don't even live an hour away--it's a twenty minute run on bike. Three bikes in the last week have died or been faulty to a point of threatening to hurt me. I'm at wit's end about this issue.
I really don't mind and wholeheartedly appreciate help getting to work, but I rather treasure dearly being able to transport on my own. "Why not a car, Darryl?" Simple!
- Gas: 20 min by bike is 10 by car. Waste.
- Insurance: Ga ordinance. You have it or you go to jail. I make 140 on a good week. Yeah, how about no.
- Justification: We live in a hub. Food, hospitals, medical, hobby shops--all around the corner. Pleasant Hill traffic on a good day is infuriating.
- Outright fear I have YET in my near-thirty years to possess a car that hasn't died on me or hasn't been run into the ground through family other parties. I'm so very damned tired of that runabout. It's hard to bum a ride on a bike, did you know that? Really, really hard. Tell me to get over this irrational fear after everyone else in the world have overcome theirs.
- Bills: I have a lot. A lot. A. lot.
- Upkeep: I. Can't. Afford it. And I'm not getting anyone else to foot the bill. I'll threaten my own bodily harm if they can't be conformed otherwise.
Anyway, it's something wonderful and dear for me to be able to get somewhere under my own two feet, or my own means. Circumstances I can understand, but it's a bloody friggin bike. Who has this kind of stupid luck? Faulty handlebar sets and gear sprockets that have been run down to nothing--therefore not moving the wheel with the chain? In a bran-friggin-new bike? Really?
So I'm hunting for this weekend because I really don't have a choice and I'll unjustifiably punch the salesman at Wal-Mart if I have to return one more bike after this. The circumstances are ridiculous, no matter how real they are.
And little does fate know it has to concoct better plans if it wants to break my legs.