Saturday, October 8, 2016

Tailfeathers Dragging

Yesterday, the real fun of this October began- the third of three concurrent fall fundraisers commenced. I was scheduled to start at 9PM, but I arrived at 5PM in order to give a quick orientation to the newest member of my department, who was hired in January. I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks- he's working another site most days. I showed him where various light switches and important outdoor electrical outlets were and introduced him to the crew leader of our parking contractor, a man who I have come to value as a friend over the years.

After introductions were made and important utilities pointed out, I left to get dinner and run some errands before returning to work at 9PM. Everything went smoothly, and I was finally able to lock up after the last techies left the site after 1AM. We are using a site adjacent to our property for general visitor parking (patrons with handicapped tags can park in our typical parking lot). This temporary parking lot is used by three local organizations, each having keys to one of three interlocked padlocks. I kinda look at the key we are trusted with by the town DPW as if it were made of plutonium- handle with care and don't let anyone unauthorized get anywhere near it. Better yet, it's like the eye of the Graeae- I locked it up in a box in my office during the event, then after locking the lot, handed it off to one of the managers who typically works days- it's now locked in his desk. I'm not sure he really wants it either, it's a pain in the tuchis to have such responsibility.

Right now, it's quiet... as it usually is at half-past three AM. I've already set my alarm for half-past seven so I can head down to NYC for my volunteer gig... we have three classes, from half-past nine to ten after eleven. I should be able to go home and nap for an hour or two before returning to work.

With the big pre-event Hell Week behind me, I should be able to set up weekend posts ahead of time. Just in time for Halloween, I found a few archives of old pulp magazines, so I have so weird fiction to write about for the rest of the month. I just need a little time, which isn't going to happen on the weekends.

1 comment:

  1. I'm not sure he really wants it either, it's a pain in the tuchis to have such responsibility.

    Talk to The Hand.
    ~

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