February 22, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You are perfectly comfortable knowing that you don't know everything. Today brings a breath of fresh air to your understanding, as an old illusion dries up and blows away, leaving more truth to ponder.
The less said about yesterday’s date the better. I’m not a sore loser when my team loses in sport—probably because I’m not that invested—so Canada’s loss to the U.S. in hockey wasn’t a heartbreaker. It wasn’t about a bad ref call or a star player being injured early in the game; Canada simply got outplayed.
I’m just glad I could disappear in the crowd at Hockey House and focus on the TV screen instead of on Derrick. He talked the whole way through the game. And it wasn’t like Derrick thought he was one of those sports know-it-alls who decided he could give a better play-by-play than the paid guys. In fact, I’m not sure he knows a thing about hockey. He spent the entire pre-game buildup talking about a rented unit in his building and the tenant who kept denying she had a dog despite all evidence to the contrary: barks, piddle stains on the hall carpet, clumps of fur clinging to the woman’s clothing. Did he really think I, as a dog lover, would empathize with his campaign to evict her? Of course, how would he know my position on dogs? First, he would have had to have asked and, second, he would have needed to listen to my response. The World According to Derrick is too insular to value anyone other than The Big D.
I tuned him out as soon as the puck dropped. Worse, I found myself lining up for the bathroom during intermissions, not because I had to go, but because I had to get away. PLEASE grant me the fortitude to say no should he dare call for a third date.
Got my first temp gig today. I’m working in the office at an auto parts store in Burnaby. That’s rich. If I didn’t belong to the auto club, I’d still be crying at the side of the road over a flat tire from four years ago. I can’t name a single car part other than tire, steering wheel, brake and mirror. It took me too long to find the place so I did without Starbucks. I’ve made two attempts to down a cup of office coffee—thought I’d messed up the first pot—but the stuff is undrinkable. I’ve since downed an entire package of mints but bad coffee aftertaste cannot be tamed.
This job is supposed to last a few days, maybe longer. Apparently Delores fell at a curling rink in Surrey. Must have tried too hard to emulate the moves of the studs who are the curlers on Canada’s Olympic team. (How often do studs and curlers find themselves in the same sentence?) I should be thrilled to get the work, but I’m hoping she heals fast. I don’t have a clue what people are talking about when they call. They don’t teach you car parts in university—or anything practical, for that matter.
Muffler! Aha. I do know another part. What’s it do? Keep the engine warm? So much to learn.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
THE PAIN! YES, I STRUGGLED THRU A RUN THIS A.M., BUT THE REAL AGONY COMES FROM THE GAME. BRODEUR LET THE TEAM DOWN. SHLD’VE PUT IN LUONGO. IT’S HIS HOME RINK. IRONICALLY, THE BEST GOAL OF THE NITE HAD NOTHING TO DO W/GOALTENDING. KESLER’S EMPTY-NETTER ROCKED. WHERE IS THAT SHOT WHEN HE’S A CANUCK?
WORK HASN’T BEEN ANY BETTER. SAT THRU A 3-HR MTG DURING WHICH THE BOSS REAMED ME OVER ERRORS I MADE IN AN APPLICATION TO THE CITY RE. THE BURNABY PROJECT. CLAIMS CONSTRUCTION WILL BE DELAYED @ LEAST 2 WKS, COSTING TENS OF THOUSANDS. I HAVEN’T FELT THIS INCOMPETENT SINCE I FLUNKED STATISTICS IN UNIVERSITY. THE PUBLIC SHAMING OF ME ISN’T THE END OF IT. FEELS LIKE MY JOB IS ON THE LINE.
AFTER YRS OF BRINGING IN BUCKETS—NO, TRUCKLOADS—OF BUCKS, I’M NOT SURE I’LL MAKE IT TO THE END OF THE WK. GOTTA CONNECT W/MARTY ABOUT PUTTING OUR DREAM VENTURE INTO HIGH GEAR.