Monday Morning

Date: January 9, 2007
      First of all, I woke up at 7:30AM - which is common since I got the blackout drapes.
      OK - I need to sleep with the drapes open.
      But then, the cold air falls on the bed, double-pane window (6' door) or not.
      Of course I COULD set the frigging alarm clock. That's too easy.
     
      I also sleep with 1-2 cats (depends on if Ranger deserves to be in or not). (Like - did he try to tear up the new carpet again.)
      I managed to assemble myself, more or less, checked that my hair was more or less dry - a growing problem as it is now ponytail length. Ponytails give me a headache.
      I left the house knowing, KNOWING, that I had to go to the storage area and pick up my lock and sign out so I was no longer liable. Chuck and his partner had helped me move the remaining of 10 truck loads from the storage unit on Sunday (my birthday request) so I could stop paying $250 a month (closed the other one earlier - also $250). I am down-scaling. (And hauling it to San Diego, and filling the storage shed, and then beginning to get rid of it.) (Toys for grandchildren I will not have. Children's books. And more tents then I can sleep in. Johnathan was equipped. So was I.)
     
      I was upset that the replacement CPA had sent estimated tax forms WITHOUT TALKING TO ME, so I was a bit distracted. (I took 11 days off - that's a big discount!) And San Diego has messed up my property taxes. (I was moving the homeowner's exemption.) (I have now contacted another CPA recommended by the man I work with, works for me, whatever. And decided that a W2 format was required - withholding from my pay. If I am staying a contractor, I want life to be simpler. Social Security and Hippa are next on my list.)
     
      Well, along about MISSION (almost to the office), I blew a damn fuse! I had, as soon as I had left the driveway, lost my brains and forgotten to go to the storage area.
      Mind you, it took three attempts to even get OUT of the driveway.
      First, I forgot one of my books. So I went back in through two locks.
      Second, I had stuff still in the car (currently still sitting on the sidewalk near the door), and didn't want to open the house yet again (two locks). I still haven't put it inside and it's nearly 10PM.
      Third try, I finally made it to the street, and went the rote way to work, mind blank.
     
      Well, royally pissed at myself for having had this latest brain-freeze (idiot! Brain-damaged! Dumb!), I whipped off the 880- Southbound to Mission Blvd, which is UNDER CONSTRUCTION. Of course it is. In 11 years, it has never NOT been under construction.
     
      So I whip off to Mission, and cannot turn back to the Northbound 880, which I had thought to do, and back to the storage units, one exit up from my house no less. I have to go all the way to Warm Springs (locals will know this) before I can U-Turn.
      I get around in a U-Turn on the most-busy, longest-light, main intersection in the Bay Area, I swear. It connects two freeways - 880 and 680. And Warm Springs is the surface route to San Jose. That's a LOT of cars.
      I am coming back from the U-Turn toward 880 and confused as Hell because all the exits from Mission back to 880 are - under construction - and the signage - is too.
      I accidentally turned too fast, and ended up on Warren, seeing that I had made an error just as I was making it. (Little bitty sign pointing to the "temp" entrance.)
     
      So, trapped, I drove on, Northbound and parallel (right next to) Northbound 880.
      Well, the truck and its slowly fading Master-Slave Cylinder (clutch) was driving around the TOYOTA TRUCK FACILITY. Yep - they build the Tacomas right there. At 25 MPH, over speed bumps, and about 50 feet between gates and stop signs, this is a BIG plant.
     
      I became trapped behind several big rigs. The road is painted with collapsing lanes so I can't see how to drive around.
      Two more rigs come up behind me. Everybody is NOT MOVING. I am about to loose it.
      And a man in a turban gets out of his big truck and walks up.
     
      Well, the normal reaction is OH MY GOD! A MAN IN A TURBAN! But I just watched him amble up to me. I lowered my window - not all the way - enough.
      He told me to drive around the trucks because they were all waiting to get in.
      I thanked him and then carefully drove around the big rigs (careful not to hit on-coming traffic of which there was little) and saw how slowly these guys were going to get off the street. Trucks were backed up from gate to entrance and by the time I left 5 deep in the street.
     
      So, over and over, and around I went, Lost in Freaking Fremont! Stop signs, speed bumps and 25 MPH. I used the "California Stop" where we tap the brake and then roll out. There was no traffic and all the other gates were shut tight.
      I passed Grimmer and debated if I should have turned there.
      I ended up, eventually, on Fremont Blvd, sort of recognized where I was, headed for the big power lines and the mountains, and found AutoMall Parkway, which led me to 880 North, finally.
     
      I am still seething. I raced up to the Thornton exits (two of them), not sure if it's East or West I need but managing to guess correctly.
      I go to storage, grab the frigging lock, and get to the storage office - and the girl there is on her first day at work and has no clue what to do. I told her - "leave a message - I left the door up".
     
      Now I am free to get back into the flow of traffic and get on 880 South, for the second time in one morning, and drift my way through rush hour traffic all over again and actually get to work, by 10:30AM - only minutes after my normal arrival. (I work through lunch and do stuff off-site. Notably, I rehearse seminars and bore my cats.)
     
      I was worried someone might speak to me before I had coffee.
      I was afraid I'd probably kill and eat them.
      Of course, if he were cute enough, he'd be in even worse trouble.
      Estrogen moment.
      Definitely.
     
     
      Of course, later that day, the office was interesting. Under lots of stress, constant interruptions and running from meeting to meeting while fielding a half-dozen emails, dumping all over IT, and telling them what we need (content management), and getting ready to run some more classes, I was also dealing with documents, strange web pages and general mayhem.
     
      My office mate (the man who works for me) complained he hadn't been sexually harassed yet today (we had been discussing training along those lines) and asked for an 18 yr old, he's 60, and I asked for something under 45, over 6' with muscles, I will be 65 Thursday, causing another member of the group to run back to his office giggling.
     
      So far I have forwarded (to the office) a photo of me with a whip, with a pair of swords, and the last one, with my Remington 20-gauge shotgun (taken by my son). I was dressed in black. I need to dust off my black cowboy hat and get a black cowboy duster. Someplace I have the boots.
     
      Documentation Dominatrix.
      Me.

      Women on a diet are dangerous.

      I have lost nearly 20 lbs ---- 50 to go -------