Decided against the run this morning. ALL YOUR MITOCHONDRIA ARE BELONG TO US! That, and I think I woke up every thirty-eight or thirty-nine seconds last night, for one reason or another. The Little Ditchman came in and tapped me on the shoulder for something, then she climbed into bed next to me. At least, I think. Mommy bolted upright, clapped her hands and pronounced, "OUT!" Or something. Anyway, it was dark, and there is no family bed here.

Later, it was the mommy who was poking me and saying I was getting up. I was? (And this was no illusory Facebook poke -it was the real deal.) You want to say something like, Well, you were out working until 8:45 and I had to do all the kid stuff after work and I'm exhausted, but then you realize that the shoe's reversed most other days so that argument won't fly. Still, you're Dad. Play dumb. Act useless. It's what you're good at. (I slept another hour.)

Ran out of screws yesterday! Euphemism, symbol, irony, or metaphor? Yes, all those things, as well as redundant. Again! How is it possible that I could run out of screws two whole days in a row? Look, it's a "Spanish Brown" thing, you wouldn't understand. Anyway, it was an honest error as they were two totally different sizes of screws. One is a #8 x 1/2" Hex-headed Tek screw, and the other is a #10 x 2 1/2" Hex-headed HWH SMS washer screw, both with painted ends. (The order form calls the #10 a #9, actually, but silly goose, there is no such thing as a number 9. Even I know better.) See how boring? My job is more screws than a chicken ranch and not half as entertaining.

So I've got to get back out there today. The landscaper wants me finished and gone so that he can do his job, though we aren't really in each other's way. I guess he just wants the property to himself so he can do his magic. (I can respect that. I'm the same way.) Also, he was complaining about some of the jobs he has right now: "Difficult people! Real a$$h0les! I'm the kinda guy who won't take work from people who yell at their kids wrong -I just walk away! But, you know, with the economy like it is..." Yeah man, I tell ya: I'm the same way. Why, just the other day this guy was clubbing baby Harp seals on his back patio and I just had to suck it up and ask him where he wanted the shade.

Good news: Mrs. Ditchman sold a job where the customer is so handy, he wants to build it himself! My work consists of ordering the materials and bringing it over and picking up the check (however smaller.) But awesome! Note to self: Build less, pick up more checks, get tan somewhere else.

Tomorrow's job is quite the opposite, however, so that the Fates can make up for it. See the picture-perfect, enchanting patio cover up top that I built last month? Well, the nice customer would like the column on the right to move over about 11 inches. So tomorrow it all comes down, it takes a jump to the left, and we do the time warp. It was not a mistake. And it's supposed to be the hottest day of the week.

It's all screws at my job!

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CULTURAL REFERENCES IN THIS POST EXPLAINED:
(BY WAY OF THE WIKIPEDIA)

"all your mitochondria are belong to us"
"family bed"
"Facebook poke"
"chicken ranch"
"clubbing baby Harp seals"
"the Fates"
"a jump to the left"


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