Monday, Part V

Well, I just missed my train to work.

Hardly surprising, given my morning…but it all started out so promising this morning.

I.

Had.

A.

Plan.

It’s my Friday, you see.  Typically, I’ve been working later shifts on my Fridays to have more cross over time to support and develop the junior managers.  Well, on my Thursdays and Fridays, but now I have a spin class I go to on my Thursday night, so…screw ’em.

I joke.

But I’m still giving them one more night a week than they had been getting, so there is that.

Anyway, the added benefit here is that this gives my body a practice day for sleeping in on my weekend, so I’m not waking up at 5 am with my body patting itself on the back for the extra sleep.  Normally, I’ll wake up anywhere between 3:30 and 4:45 to be at work by 5 or 6.  On my late day, I’ll set an optimistic alarm for 8:30, but I’m usually awake by 7, at the latest.

Today, I was up and at ’em at 6:00.  I had my laundry going and had showered, dressed and answered work emails by 7:30.  I was then on my way to do my recycling…my goal being as few errands and chores left over on my weekend as possible to maximize my screwing around time.

The bottle drop opens at 8 and I was seething about being fourth in line behind three of the founding members of the Portland Millionaire’s Club.

90 minutes later, caught up on all my Facebook and Instagram goings-on and Words With Friends plays, I was still waiting.  

Next.

In.

Line.

The guy in front of me was by far the slowest – and judging by his relatively meager cart load of recycling – and poorest of the three people ahead of me.  I moved to leave so that I could go home, drop off my recycling and make it to the 9:24 train to PDX when the guy turns to me and says, “I’ll take those for ya, if you’re not gonna stay!”

Like he’s being helpful.

I’m already pissy because my recycling will have to intrude on my weekend.  Also, its reached the point where it’s about more than I can comfortably carry on foot.  If much more accumulates, I’ll have to make two trips or impose on a friend with a car.

<Looking at you, Silver Fox>

But I also realize his slow and challenged behavior was part of an act.  He wanted me to just drop my recycling and leave them for him to claim.

Nice try, my street bound Rockefeller.

You’ve got to get up pretty early to catch me before the tidal wave of grumpiness overwhelms my day.  I only recycle now – mostly – because of my grumpiness.  Most of which – in this situation – I actually blame equally on homeless people and apartment/condo dwellers, since we are largely to blame for triggering the bottle redemption deposit to go from $.05 to $.10.  

The other reason I recycle is cuz I’m cheap and a dime is a lot of money to just throw down a recycling chute.

So, no.  But, thanks…I’ll bring my recycling back tomorrow.

What iced my Monday cake for me was walking the last block of my foot commute to the train at 9:22 and seeing my Redline train to the airport pulling away.

Calmly, I walked the last block while screaming, “Fuuuuuuuuck!!!” inside, pulled out my phone, texted the boss I’d be a few minutes late and started this blog post.

Also thinking, “You’ve got to sign up for the Bottle Drop recycling program, you cheap, old bastard.”  Seriously, the only reason I have resisted is because I have to buy the drop bags and I estimate that they cost about 10% of my overall redemption.  But I’m thinking the frustration it would relieve and the amount of time I would save standing in the aroma of despair would probably be worth $.01 per bottle…there’s my bright side of this fifth Monday of my work week.

Also, I was just reminded that I made plans for tonight.  They are about three hours before I get off work, so I get to share my shit iced crap cake of a day with someone else, now.  

I could really use a mental health day.

Monday, Part V

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