Cattle Call 2.0

The best weeks are those that allow for thought and reflection without one pounding on a desk demanding severance pay. This has been one such week. Even though we started Tuesday, today feels like it should have been Friday.

Things started off well enough. Ben gave me a hand on Saturday doing some serious wrenching on the '59. We somehow made it into and out of the lodge with frozen appendages occurring only AFTER a couple hours of wrenching. Lots of movies chewed through on Monday while Cara was at work. Should this have been summer I'd be giving serious thought to just about anywhere else than where I was sitting at that time. Tuesday through Thursday clicked right off even with meetings, angry wage folk, pressed clothes, early bedtimes, ebaying and all manner of ilk that came my way. I even managed to drift off to sleep with that 80% mind running-body too tired to care, feeling.

Tonight was especially interesting as the tab at a local downtown establishment was on the company. Drinks flowed and people talked, as it were. The most difficult part of the evening was leaving knowing there was another 9 hours in front of me starting off well before dawn the next morning.

But, the best part was reminding myself of the notion that each and every one of us has a say in our future. It was announced earlier this week that for the "best part" of the summer we'd be running OT continuously. This is terrific news for the bank account, but puts a real dent in the 'summer to finally enjoy' category. It's enough to make a man really consider how many bridges he'd care to burn, and lately I've taken to lighting a few off, knowing I'll be a year shy of a decade of service in a handful of months. It's good for the soul to run up against one's supervisor with enough gusto to leave them both curious and angry, even if it means a bit more time trading one of life's most precious commodities for the almighty buck: time.

And so goes this summer. A veritable laundry-list of activities, tempered with prostitution.