Saturday, June 25, 2005

I'll Tell You What That Bulge Is, and No I'm Not Pregnant

but I definitely think I swallowed at least two pounds of sawdust today and it's all settling in the lower torso area somewhere.

Today was day 1 (or 6? or something) of New Schedule Wherein They Pay Me but I Never Get to Sleep. That is not strictly true, actually, because I had yesterday off and went into work at noon today, but what is life without hyperbole? So I went to work and it was a trip - people at the museum who do not! work! there! Who were looking at art! Who knew?! Then again, the place closed at 5, so any potential artviewers were unceremoniously booted somewhat earlier than I would have expected on a summer Saturday.

So I spent rather more hours than I am comfortable with (lie) screwing around on the internet because I am at something of a standstill in most of my various ongoing projects, and Saturday = no boss with whom to consult about said projects. However, screwing around on the internet with no Flash, no Java, no Windows Media and no player for internet radio sucks, is boring, and leads to frighteningly shallow perusals of the most recent New York Times. There was an election in Iran? What? But hey, I can tell you all about mommies who think their babies got autism from vaccines despite all logic!

Meh, who am I kidding, I only read the science section of the Times anyway. I am a fraudulent educated college student. The shame, the shame.

Anyway, after the hours upon hours of getting paid to be useless, I went upstairs to help an artist create his art. I thought this would actually involve art. Silly Allie! Instead, it involved creating a floor. A new floor. At waist height above the original floor. Which itself involved cutting a lot of certainly-toxic-when-breathed pressure board. Which involved sawdust. Lo, I am sawdusty. But the upside is that I got to play with the ShopVac, since I am marginally less competent than a trained squirrel when it comes to using real power tools with the ability to maim. Actually, come to think of it, I continued to be paid to be useless, because Grandpa can tell you that my major role in any kind of shop/wood-involved setting is limited to gawking.

So I gawked for 4 hours, and then I drew some little Xs on the pressure board, and then I drove home. But I bought the guy a Pepsi, so it's ok.

And I get to do it all again tomorrow!!!!1!!!1!2!


Anonymous craig said...

Hey, you know what you could do? FInd something for me.

In your dad's basement there's a poster of a fisher-price toy. the poster is from an albright-knox exhibit from a million years ago.

It occurred to me around 1990 that I should call them and buy all they had rather than the two I had bought. I got someone on the line who said yes, they had a bunch left, and I could have them for like two bucks each if I bought them all, which would come to around $500.

Great. I would sell them and get rich. We talked it out and then suddenly days later they started saying "uh, no, we were wrong. We don't have ANY. Not one. Nope, not one. All gone."

I think they lied when they realized I was on to something good.

You could snoop around and find out for me.

6/28/2005 12:42 AM  
Anonymous craig said...

Ack!!! I meant your GRANDPA'S basement!!! MY Dad.

Your grandpa is my dad.

6/28/2005 12:43 AM  

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