Busy Week (The Berations of Paul)

Disclaimer: This post is from the archives, and may not represent the current views of the author. It also may not be at all interesting to read. Continue at your own peril!

I’m pathetically tired. I’ve had such a busy weekend, which was great, but also tiring. Friday night I worked until 9 and then raced home, got changed, and went right back out with Vince and Val (whom I haven’t seen in months) to see Ocean’s Twelve. It was a great movie; I wouldn’t say as good as the first, but definitely at the same level of enjoyment. We then headed over to Tim Horton’s and sat there and just chatted it up over a cup of coffee. Well, I had a Cafe Mocha, Vince had a French Vanilla, and Val had a Coke. I can’t believe she’s so obsessed with Coke that she goes to a coffee shop and buys a Coke, but oh well. We left at about 12:45 AM the next day – wait, that sounds strange. I fell asleep the second I plopped onto my bed, thankfully remembering to set my alarm before I did that.

I woke up to the sound of the alarm at 9:15 and, though it just didn’t seem fair getting up that early on a Saturday, I knew I had to get up. I ate a muffin, delaying getting ready for work as long as possible, then had a nice shower and headed off to Quizno’s to start work at 10:30. It was interesting there; when I got there at 10:20 Paul (the boss) was already there. I can’t stand working when he’s there; he makes me nervous because I know if I screw up he’ll be all over me. And the nervousness makes me screw up twice as much, although it’s not so bad now that I basically know what I’m doing. Anyways, he berated me and grinded me to a pulp for the second time because I forgot to take meatballs out of the freezer during my last close on Monday. Apparently they came in a box – which I already knew and looked for quite thoroughly. The fact that the box did not exist inside that freezer on Monday didn’t seem to deter Paul from sarcastically taking the metaphorical cheese grater to my face. Friday night he showed me the box where the meatballs were – of course, this included lots of phrases like, “Your mother doesn’t work here anymore to change your diapers for you” and other phrases of endearment toward my lineage. He then showed me where the lids to the cups were, even though I have never had a problem finding any – it was someone else that did, and he still singled me out. Oh well, I suppose I chose to work there.

On Saturday the cheese-grating continued as he told me about someone who didn’t take chicken out of the freezer the night before. He opened up the freezer, and put this insanely horrendous look on his face, staring into the fridge with both elbows pointed backward and saying, “Where’s the chicken?! I don’t see any chicken. Do you see any chicken?” Since his face was so comical and his stance looked just so perfect, I was about to say, “Just one. He’s standing in front of me.” Needless to say, I held my tongue so I could keep my job. After all, he pays me. So here he was, sarcastically ripping me apart for someone else’s mistake, and apparently to “prove a point.” Whatever. About ten or fifteen minutes later, he then asked me where the hot peppers were. I had a brain freeze and couldn’t remember where they were kept – I could see the image in my mind, I just couldn’t place it. Anyways, I finally realized where they were and then went to pick some up – they weren’t there. He knew there weren’t any there and then asked me, “Now where would you look if they weren’t there?” I replied that I didn’t know; I’ve always seen them there and wouldn’t know where else they were kept. He then started into the speech about how “they’re in a box! Things come in a box. And they’re usually labeled on the outside with what’s on the inside. Can you imagine that? They’re also not usually far away from where they’re kept.” He pointed out the box of hot peppers; I have never had a problem finding them in the other place, but I started to feel like I was in trouble for forgetting them or something.

That’s how Paul works. He puts people on guilt trips so they’ll remember for next time, even if they didn’t forget last time. All I do is say, “Okay,” about a zillion times until he finally shuts up, sort of turning off the sarcasm in my mind and just leaving the real meaning of what he’s saying. After all, I have to remember it or else he’ll just start into me again. So here I am, putting up with crap I didn’t even deserve just so I don’t get it again. Oh well.

So anyways, after I got off work at 3, I came home and changed, and had a few minutes to myself where I posted on my blog here about the Burford Santa Claus Parade. I went off to that – you can read the details in the previous post – and then came back and finally had time to breathe. I went to bed at a decent hour, but had to wake up at 7 on a Sunday in order to be ready for worship practice at 8 at the church; I’ve been playing bass for the past little while. The worship leader, Dan Macaulay, didn’t even show up, and at about 8:45 he called and told the pastor he was sick. Soooo, the pastor had to quickly get a song list together and have a quick practice with us before service started. It was a little hectic, but I don’t think it sounded too bad. After church I ate lunch, did my homework, and now I’m here. This blog is one of my only chances to sit back and relax. Writing just calms me down and helps me think and reflect. I’d probably internally combust if I couldn’t write anymore.

That’s about all I have to say. I have a headache and need to just relax some more. I’m off to youth tonight at 6:30 to play bass again; the service starts at 7:30 and I really don’t need an hour to figure out how to play the songs, but I can get the computer stuff set up at least. After that, I’ll be coming home and wishing I were in Hawaii and just relaxing. But of course, tomorrow is school, plus I work as a supervisor tomorrow night as well, so I’ll likely wish I were dead after that. Fortunately I don’t work again until Saturday, so that gives me at least a bit of relaxation from the hectic days I’ve just had. I think I need a KitKat, cause I sure deserve a break.

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