I had to go to the Joliet DMV this morning in order to take the Class C license exam. You see, our store has an off-site warehouse and we have two large trucks to convey merchandise to and from said warehouse. The "small Ryder" is a less-than-16,000-GVWR truck but it can only hold six pallets. The "big Ryder" can hold ten pallets but requires a Class C license, because it's got a GVWR of 26,000 lbs.
(Why "Ryder"? Because the corporation rents them from Ryder.)
So here I am, trying to get onto I-57. Accelerating to 60 MPH, signal on, coming down the ramp...and this stupid woman in a Ford Focus decides YOU WILL NOT GET IN FRONT OF ME YOU GODDAMNED SUV-DRIVING BASTARD and tries to accelerate.
But she didn't accelerate very hard, and since I was running out of merge lane--and she was still behind me--I moved over. All she had to do was take her foot off the gas for a few moments. But instead of that, or stepping on her brakes, or something, she instead swerved into the left lane and nearly ran another car off the road.
And that was pretty much how the entire day went: stupid people doing stupid things and then getting mad at me because it's never their fault that they did something stupid.
At least the driving exam went well. I failed the written the first time but got to take it again (missed more than three grumble grumble) but I virtually aced the driving portion. (Four points for an imperfect stop at one point. Otherwise, flawless.) So I sat to wait for my new license.
The Class C certification wasn't on it.
...and so I had to wait another hour for them to figure out what went wrong and fix it.
End result, I got there at 9 AM and left at 11:45. *sigh*
On the plus side, I got paid for it, so it's not all bad.
FLEE IN TERROR! I CAN NOW LEGALLY DRIVE A BIG TRUCK!
* * *
And I can't help myself. (Again.)
Normal Sexual defines his own name. Guess that must be his nickname. All the guys around the water cooler call him "NED", I suppose.
Thank you, Vernon! It's nice to know that I'm appreciated around here. Which efforts were you planning to reward, anyway?
declaimgunpowder4 has a weird e-mail handle. But that's okay, because I think he's writing me an e-mail about sentient machinery. What other kind of "reactor" would need a college education?
Harry Kenney mentions affordable jet set paraphernalia. What would that be? What paraphernalia can the jet set not live without? And who is the jet set these days? Considering that plenty of people travel via air these days, wouldn't "the jet set" include anyone who's gone anywhere by air? Like me?
Victor Russell informs me that he has finally eaten enough fiber. I don't care.
Garry Darling and Lena Cox are writing me about "legal buds" again. But I've caught on to what they mean now, oh yes I have! "Legal buds" are friendly lawyers. And they can apparently be potent and mind-blowing! So these friendly lawyers, I think, must work out a lot (hence "potent") and they must be really weird. (No wonder they want to be friends with me.)(Now cry.)
Letha Thorne is giving me instructions I don't understand. I can only assume that she thinks I have taken on the task of publicizing someone's ROBOTIC BOUNCER. That is the only possible explanation for this that I can think of right now.
* * *
You might have noticed that when I use the ellipsis to separate topics (* * *) I sometimes use <* * *> instead of * * *. There is a reason for this.
I've been using Word since 1997, now. When I was a tech writer we used it exclusively until about 2001, when all the books finally started making the switch to SGML, at which point we started to use ArborText.
From 1997 to 2001, though, I learned how to power-use Word; and because of that I finally made the switch from Professional Write to Word. Word can't load PW files, of course, but that was all right since it forced me to re-write the worthy stuff in Word format.
But if you start a line with an asterisk (*), Word thinks you want to start a bulleted list.
I got sick and tired of having to hit backspace to correct it; finally I got myself in the habit of enclosing my ellipses (plural of "ellipsis" by the way) in brackets in order to prevent that. So "* * *" became "<* * *>" and by now it's totally automatic.
Why not just turn off the auto-format? Because it's too damned useful for when I actually do want a bulleted list.
* * *
How do we beat the bitch?
Oh no! A private citizen called Hillary Rodham Clinton-Marx-Lenin a bitch! We must get our panties in a wad!
Not WND. I'm talking about the news story about it on ABC right now.
The article references some quotes. This one makes me smirk: "Only a true bitch would even think of asking a question like that. It really shows America that the Republicans can't win on their own merits that they have to resort to childish, schoolyard games like name-calling."
Yeah, only Republicans do that. Liberals never hurl insults like "Darth Cheney", "Bushitler", "Repugnicans", "General Betray Us", etc.
* * *
My week has been an odd one, though. Monday evening I got up, got ready for work, and drove in...only to learn that I was not on the schedule!
I had asked for this week off, and it was denied, but I was told that I could post my hours on the shift swap board. I posted today, Wednesday, but apparently my boss posted the other days for me--because I ended up not being on the scheudle this week.
I could have stayed and worked, but with my diverticula still being annoying and such, I decided just to go home.
Tuesday was eaten by locusts. Take Mom to bank. Take Mom shopping. Get this and that done. Blah blah blah.
Now Wednesday ended up eaten by locusts because I got up at 7:30 to get ready to go to Joliet's DMV for the test. I left at 8 AM, and didn't get home until 1:30 PM. Jeeze!
And of course by the time I got home I was tired and pissed off and frustrated and annoyed (and starving since breakfast had been a three-slice peanut butter sandwich at 8).
Monday was a wash because I hadn't known I had it off. Tuesday, blah. Today--argh. Leaving me just Thu-Sat to do everything I wanted to do this week which is not a small order. Argh!
I have to fix a brake line in the van; I have to get the '86 Fiero movable so I can clean the garage; I have to clean the garage, at least a bit. Ideally I'd like to get the '86 semi-reassembled to the point that I can put it in the driveway, under a car cover, partly obscured by the van--I kept the mangled green Escort in the driveway like that for a year using that strategery.
Then get the Escort sold off. *phew*
Tuesday I got some 22 gauge sheetmetal, a pair of tin snips, and some other miscellany; I'm going to have a go at fixing the right rear strut tower. I need the tin snips to cut the sheetmetal but they're also necessary for cutting up the gutters, which were supposed to be hauled away by the guys who did the siding. We're going to recycle them ourselves, but they're too big to haul, so I used the tin snips to cut them into smaller chunks that will fit in a Jeep Cherokee....
If I have time, I'm going to find someone who can do the machine work on the '86 engine this week, too. I need to get that done, dang it. Heads first, then cam bearings. Maybe I can't build the entire engine but at least I can get fricking started, for crying out loud, and start making some kind of freaking progress on the dang thing.
If I could get the long block put together and painted before the end of the year, that would seem miraculous. After that I'll need to find the right 4T60 transmission and have it rebuilt, which will probably cost about as much as the engine parts and machining will. Argh.
But the Fiero Store sells remanufactured cylinder heads for the Fiero for about $200 each, so I fail to see how a machine shop could charge more than that (each) for rebuilding them. And the other parts I need total around $350 or so, since I don't need pistons or connecting rods.
It's a full life if you don't weaken.