My car goes 80, but only if I'm screaming
Down at the bottom I also explain the alarm clock bird, if you're patient enough to read that far. But first....
This morning the editor of Staffs & Starships, where I have a story in the inaugural issue, very kindly sent out a .pdf version to all the authors ahead of the printed copy we're getting later. Of course you should go buy a copy. I checked my email at work, and thought I'd print off a copy of the .pdf for easier reading. My reasoning at the time went like this:
My printer at home is almost out of ink
AND
My boss is not here
AND
I've had an exhausting cruddy day at work
THEREFORE
I should print this magazine at work.
Faultless reasoning, but I forgot the most important thing: remember to get the copy off the printer before I leave for the evening.
I get off work at four. It was a little after 4:30 when I got home. I changed out of my work clothes and fed and watered all the aminals, and poured myself a bowl of Count Chocula (yeah) because I didn't feel up to making anything more elaborate. And then I sat down to check my email. "Hmm," I thought, "I wish I had enough ink in my print--OH MY GAWD."
I left the Count Chocula to get all mushy, stuffed my bare feet into sneakers, and grabbed my purse, which I promptly dropped and for some reason all the cards in my wallet went flying even though the wallet was still snapped shut. Weird.
It takes me, Janie Law Abiding Citizen, 35 minutes almost to the second to get to work because I drive the speed limit in my bumper car (more commonly called a Toyota Yaris). This afternoon, in rush hour traffic, it took me 20 minutes.
See, my boss comes in every evening to work until 9 or so and I knew she would be working on payroll tonight and that meant she would be using the printer and when she went to get her stuff, there would be the first issue of Staffs & Starships, and not only would that be really hard to explain away but it wasn't her freaking copy. She can get her own. So I had to get to work before she returned for the evening.
I made it, and charged into the office and grabbed the papers off the printer. Too much paper--my boss had already printed her payroll stuff off from her home computer, and it took me a frantic moment to separate the two. Then I locked up again and tore out of the parking lot before she pulled in and saw me.
Two minutes later I thought to make sure I had all the pages, and I flipped over the last page and looked at the last sentence. This is what smote my eye: "I aim and"
I DIDN'T HAVE THE LAST PAGE! I HAD TO GO BACK! I figured the printer had run out of paper. I took the next exit, turned around, and flew back up the highway at roughly 20 miles over the speed limit. My boss still wasn't there. I parked across three parking spaces and ran inside again, grabbed a wodge of paper and wrenched open the paper drawer.
It still had paper. There were no idiot lights blinking to show a jam. I flipped through all the papers on the printer to make sure I hadn't missed the last page but it was nowhere to be found. And precious seconds were ticking away.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass door as I locked up behind myself. I looked like a banshee. And I still don't know what happened with that last page, but at least I got the rest of the evidence whisked away with no one the wiser. And now I know my car will do 80, although it probably shouldn't.
So...what is the alarm clock bird? I don't know what kind of bird it is, but it starts singing right outside my bedroom window at precisely 15 till 6 every morning, and it sounds exactly like my alarm clock. No lie. It's also louder than my alarm clock. So I've started getting up 15 minutes early, because the bird makes me, and as a result my mornings are much calmer because I have more time. Which is good, considering how frenzied the rest of my days get.
This morning the editor of Staffs & Starships, where I have a story in the inaugural issue, very kindly sent out a .pdf version to all the authors ahead of the printed copy we're getting later. Of course you should go buy a copy. I checked my email at work, and thought I'd print off a copy of the .pdf for easier reading. My reasoning at the time went like this:
My printer at home is almost out of ink
AND
My boss is not here
AND
I've had an exhausting cruddy day at work
THEREFORE
I should print this magazine at work.
Faultless reasoning, but I forgot the most important thing: remember to get the copy off the printer before I leave for the evening.
I get off work at four. It was a little after 4:30 when I got home. I changed out of my work clothes and fed and watered all the aminals, and poured myself a bowl of Count Chocula (yeah) because I didn't feel up to making anything more elaborate. And then I sat down to check my email. "Hmm," I thought, "I wish I had enough ink in my print--OH MY GAWD."
I left the Count Chocula to get all mushy, stuffed my bare feet into sneakers, and grabbed my purse, which I promptly dropped and for some reason all the cards in my wallet went flying even though the wallet was still snapped shut. Weird.
It takes me, Janie Law Abiding Citizen, 35 minutes almost to the second to get to work because I drive the speed limit in my bumper car (more commonly called a Toyota Yaris). This afternoon, in rush hour traffic, it took me 20 minutes.
See, my boss comes in every evening to work until 9 or so and I knew she would be working on payroll tonight and that meant she would be using the printer and when she went to get her stuff, there would be the first issue of Staffs & Starships, and not only would that be really hard to explain away but it wasn't her freaking copy. She can get her own. So I had to get to work before she returned for the evening.
I made it, and charged into the office and grabbed the papers off the printer. Too much paper--my boss had already printed her payroll stuff off from her home computer, and it took me a frantic moment to separate the two. Then I locked up again and tore out of the parking lot before she pulled in and saw me.
Two minutes later I thought to make sure I had all the pages, and I flipped over the last page and looked at the last sentence. This is what smote my eye: "I aim and"
I DIDN'T HAVE THE LAST PAGE! I HAD TO GO BACK! I figured the printer had run out of paper. I took the next exit, turned around, and flew back up the highway at roughly 20 miles over the speed limit. My boss still wasn't there. I parked across three parking spaces and ran inside again, grabbed a wodge of paper and wrenched open the paper drawer.
It still had paper. There were no idiot lights blinking to show a jam. I flipped through all the papers on the printer to make sure I hadn't missed the last page but it was nowhere to be found. And precious seconds were ticking away.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass door as I locked up behind myself. I looked like a banshee. And I still don't know what happened with that last page, but at least I got the rest of the evidence whisked away with no one the wiser. And now I know my car will do 80, although it probably shouldn't.
So...what is the alarm clock bird? I don't know what kind of bird it is, but it starts singing right outside my bedroom window at precisely 15 till 6 every morning, and it sounds exactly like my alarm clock. No lie. It's also louder than my alarm clock. So I've started getting up 15 minutes early, because the bird makes me, and as a result my mornings are much calmer because I have more time. Which is good, considering how frenzied the rest of my days get.