It’s 5:15 AM

7659004_G.jpg…I’m awake, fuck it.  Not quite the 3:00 in the morning blues, but it’ll have to be close enough.

I am pretty sure that I have been sweating for 20 straight hours, guys.  Yesterday was a bit of a scorcher– I say “a bit” because 1) by historical standards it actually wasn’t really all that bad and 2) it’s going to be worse today, but the first thing I did when I got to work yesterday morning was help to unload an eighteen-wheeler full of furniture.  At the time I commented that it wasn’t actually that bad of a truck, and it wasn’t– mostly big, square boxes that aren’t difficult to balance on a dolly and very few sofas, which are impossible to balance right and are the bane of my existence.  What I wasn’t aware of was that for the next eleven hours of my work shift, constituting nearly 18000 steps and nearly eleven miles of walking, I was not ever going to actually stop sweating at any point.  Which may have accounted at least partially for my poor performance as a salesman yesterday, come to think of it.  I went through eight refills of the liter-sized water bottle I keep with me and never stopped feeling dehydrated.

I have blisters on my feet.  I have to do it all over again today.

Then I got home from work, said good night to my son, ate some dinner, watched PREACHER, and went to bed.  See anything missing?  For some reason, I declared myself too tired to take a shower, which was some seriously poor decision making right there.  Why am I typing on my blog and not in the shower right now, since I’m awake?  Well, my wife leaves for work way before I do and I’m letting her do her morning ablutions before I rinse the filth off my disgusting meat-shell.  I can smell myself, guys, and when I woke up this morning from a mild nightmare and had to get out of bed because I could hear a sound I couldn’t identify in the house, I came back to what was basically a pool of sweat in my fucking bed that I couldn’t make myself lie back down in.

The pillow is still awesome, though.

I will get used to this schedule, where I have three really long days to balance out two of what are basically half-days and two days off.  I’m not there yet, but I will be; I’m not worried about it.  But I’m wearing tennis shoes to work today, and when I get off from my half day tomorrow I am driving directly to the New Balance store in Granger, handing my credit card to the first salesperson who talks to me, and telling her that money is no object (how much can shoes possibly cost?) and to put something black on my feet that will make them feel like they are surrounded by love and honey and magic all day long.  Because my current dress shoes do not fit that qualification.  At all.

You think my bed’s dry yet?  Technically I don’t have to be up for another hour.

EDIT: just in case, for some reason, anyone doubts me: last night’s sleep and yesterday’s steps.  Today is going to be rough.


One thought on “It’s 5:15 AM

  1. Oh, I feel you. I’ve had those work days, where both my body and my feet betrayed me. Also where I went to be with funk and woke with stank.

    May your shower have been pleasant, may today felt better on your feet and your pocketbook satisfied.

    Shit. Shower and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.

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