Parking The Truck

Date: April 27, 2006
      I get up early and run around doing tasks before I leave for work. But sometimes, I don't escape the madness fast enough, leading to parking problems at my new job.

      So there I was, staggering around the house, doing mindless tasks - feed the dog, feed the cat, water the cat, water the dog, fry an egg or two, order business cards, set the DVR to catch Fabio on Guiding Light, And make toast.

      First of all, as I was waiting for my toast and forgetting my egg (I do remember to use a low setting since I often "fry" my egg unintentionally), I noticed that said toaster was not toasting. It is new. It is cute. It is Oster brand. It is from Target. It had been used 2-3 times. It matches the new black counter. It is dead.
     
      Well --- ho ho, I grab it and jiggle. What any self-respecting engineer will do. Nada.
      I reset the power plug (ground-fault) and tried again. Nada. I tried another plug. (different line.)
      Then my brain kicked in - the little glowing blue light was working just fine.
      It has power - it just can't sense the bread is in there.
      Two pieces. None of the "which slot do you use" crap.
      The toaster is dead.
      Lucky for Target, I have the receipt.
     
      So I microwaved my toast - this allows me to roll it up and consume it as a soggy mess. I am that determined to have cinnamon.
      So much for cinnamon toast.
     
      My old white toaster will come up with me this trip to San Diego (along with some more pots and pans so I can pretend I cook).
      A few tops - casual cool clothing (they overheat the office.) Maybe a few other shoes.
      Careful! - don't want to get settled and sell the house!
     
      The truffle fairy has struck again. Actually several days ago, and I am restraining myself,
      But today I packed up two for the office - that time of the month when a bit of dark chocolate can keep a woman from killing something.
      And I decided that, since I will be driving to San Diego tomorrow at the wee hours of the morning, the chocolate needs to hop into the freezer.
      So I grabbed storage bags - and found the box will not fit. So I used two of them.
      I stuck the chocolate back in the fridge - until I pack a snack for the drive.
      I have been snacking on BARK - a dark chocolate nutty voodoo that is to die for.
      (This girl needs to get back into business! At my wieght - she needs to stop sending me care packages!)
     
      The truffles, deciding that I had been bad to them, threw themselves out of their box ("Eat me! Eat me!)
      And then proceeded to throw themselves, bags and boxes and all, on the floor right off the shelf of the refrigerator.
      This took them two attempts at this as I went in after butter, eggs and something.
      Calm down! says I. Your turn will come! Determined little devils.
     
      I took a shower and looked (finally) at a clock. I am running late. Oh well, the carpool lane will be open. (If you hit it just right --- you can skim by traffic at 70 - but you have to hit it just right.
      HA!
     
      I rolled out and found 880 South a MESS. Eventually, creeping along (third messy drive this week) I spy a dozen red flashy things - on tow-trucks et al. A massive wreck (cars in pieces).
      And North-bound lanes were dead-stopped.
      We had to look, of course.
     
      This made me LATE for the office (I had rounded up stuff at home to save time at work so I was not concerned.)
      This also means that I cannot find a single space in which to tuck this big compact truck.
      I toured the parking lot three times and then went for the off-site additional parking.
      Down behind the trolley line.
      (Which does not run to Fremont.)
      This means I park in a building looking to be rented (a mess of them over here)
      And walk - a fair distance - across the street (wide street) and through the parking lot of one set of buildings.
      And through the next and turn and stroll across all the way to the lobby.
      At the turn and stroll part my left leg buckles (it does this on occasion) causing a shot of pain across the top of the thigh (pinched nerve?) I won't discuss and making me gasp.
      Also pissing me off.
      I am of the firm mind that if you don't make it easy for me to park after I have braved the 880-237 nightmare to get here, I might just turn around and go home.
      Especially since I am billing through another agency and they are doing weird things with the pay periods.
      Like holding onto my money for longer than they should.
     
      I staggered at last into the lobby and signed in (I couldn't even short-cut to a back door without the badge that I have to turn in every day ----)
      30 minutes to park a car!
      Hell of a day.
     
      And it has only just started!
     
      And then I went into the break room and found no coffee (no decaf).
      They have a half-dozen of these huge things you make coffee in - and matching packets for all kinds of coffee (when did we get so fussy).
      Unfortunately you cannot expect engineers to actually read anything, so often real coffee gets put in to the decaf container just because it's easy to not bother to lift it off and put the desired carafe in place.
     
      I get to make decaf.
      I do.
     
      Ho hum. I patiently wait.
     
      At least I know it IS decaf!
     
      I should mention that SanDisk is growing out of its britches (fast and furious) and that is why the parking is such a mess. We move - next month a lot go - making parking easier - and by July we all go.

      Right next door (over the levee) from CISCO building 5 - where my son works - and he lives close to work.
      Poor kid! Mom will be within WALKING DISTANCE!!!!

      It's not enough that I drive down to visit every other weekend and wash my undies in his apartment washer and dryer. This is hysterical. Mother arrives with a laundry sack -- the reverse of what is supposed to happen isn't it?

      (The kid in question being thirty!)
       
      The other key feature of the move - the new site is around the block from my monthly writing thing at the Crowne Plaza (Which means I know how to get there). And blocks from my dentist. And near to a gas station and a Starbuck's. They also assure me that my new "office" (cube) is close to the woman's room, the elevator (it's on the 2nd floor) and the break room. These are the essential things of life. I can't wait.
     
      I was good. I waited until 1PM before scarfing down a truffle.