Dude, I've got to get some work in which my veterinary degree will do me some good. Here has been my week (and I haven't played a lick of poker, sadly).
Monday: Worked outside in my sister's backyard, doing assorted landscaping and brute force work.
Tuesday through Thursday: My previous estimates of planting a "hundred or so plants" was GREATLY underestimated. I never really counted how many, and in my state of fatigue, merely through a number out there. In reality, I planted about 700-800 pots of grass. You know the smallest size of plant that you can buy? That's what I planted. Fun, fun, fun. I also unloaded 6 truckloads of dirt, by myself.
Friday: I worked at an SPCA shelter, where only basic, basic medicine is practiced. The bare minimum. So I really didn't have to use my brain at all. Kind of nice, but I saw quite a few animals, so I was pretty tired, but not exhausted by the end of it.
Saturday: Holy Toledo, today took the cake for worst/hardest physical labor of the week. I first woke up at 6:30 this morning because I had a 75 mile drive to make. I worked at a mobile veterinary clinic from 9 A.M. until about 4:15 P.M. Outside. Standing. In 90+ degree heat. Without a technician. In a parking lot. Getting one of the worst sunburns of my life 0n my neck and arms. Trying very hard not to let two of the meanest German Shepherds I've ever met rip my face off. In the sun. Without ever eating. For about $100 less than I should have made. With no more than a 1 minute break in the never-ending stream of pissed off/scared out of their minds animals. That about sums it up. Now it's 6:45 P.M. and I'm wondering what the heck happened to the day. I really feel like kind of a zombie. And a "undocumented migrant worker." And the dude wants me to do a lot more work for him. Even further away from where I live. And I'll probably take it, because I really like the idea of eating, and not getting my truck repo'd. Gotta love being desperate.
I'm so not into political correctness. I'm also not a racist, by the way. Just in case any of you 3-4 readers out there think that. Heck, I'm still trying to figure out if there is some African heritage in me. Although, from how freaking sunburned I am right now, I find that hard to believe.
However, from the size of my unit, I can believe it.
And I wonder why I'm still single. Hmmmmmm? It's probably because these DFW chicks haven't heard about the size of my unit. Give it time. Good news always travels fast.
Dam, I can't believe where this post has traversed. I'm the king of random thoughts.
I managed to convince a girl to go out with me on a 2nd date later this evening. I figure I'll be on my "D" game, since I've got about as much energy as a three-toed sloth right now. (Wow, how often do you get to use that animal in a sentence?) Although, my friend Cameltoes claims to have seen a three-toed cameltoe, but that's a topic for a different day. But I digress. I'm pretty excited about this one, but I also don't have a lot of hopes either, because when you've had the dating experiences that I have, you have to keep your hopes in check.
My sister is playing a new LL Cool J song, which is kind of catchy, but also annoying, because it's at the part of the song where he keeps saying, "Zzzzz. Zzzzzz. Zzzzz." Seriously, he keeps saying it. He's a lyrical genius.
I'd better stop typing now, before I disenfranchise my entire 3-4 person readership.
Keep on keepin' on.
No comments:
Post a Comment