They’re not crooked, I swear

No better use of my Labor Day that I can think of than taking away work from a fine union electrician by installing new lights in the Shitty Bathroom (TM) by myself, and by “by myself” I mean “with the capable assistance of my wife everywhere my fat hands and massive body wouldn’t let me reach a screw.” I did do all the wiring, though, so y’all can use this as evidence when the house burns down. It’s okay, I’m union too.

Turns out the first time we did this job we didn’t use properly damp-resistant lighting, so they both needed replacement. This means that over the course of this weekend I fixed a recliner and wired two lights, so my masculine virility is off the chart right now.

More later, I have a nerd movie to review, and remember: people fought and died for the right to a five-day, forty-hour work week. Solidarity forever.

Happy Labor Day

I got to say it was a good day

Went from work directly to my son’s birthday party, which started a bit before I was able to get there. Being late to your own son’s birthday party is not the best feeling in the world, but it’s not like it was avoidable; everyone involved knew I was going to be late.

And then I had to continue to be a teacher for a while while wrangling 20-some-odd elementary kids for two hours.

Then I went to see my mom. Who is home now. Hopefully for good.

Soon it will be bedtime.

Thank a union member if you have a three-day weekend. And if you don’t, consider unionizing.

Enjoying your weekend?

…thank a union member.

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