Back To The Grind

So, I headed back to work today from a good weekend that had, as one might expect, a couple of unpleasant moments, as every day of anybody's life will (read: Frosty the Snow Wife being a pain in the ass when I was dropping the girls off, and by that title I refer to my ex-wife). The weekend itself was for the most part a good time.  I was feeling pretty decent about the day ahead of me on the drive into work.

Then I got to work.

This is the part where you hear that descending whistle from the old Loony Tunes cartoons, where a bomb or an anvil is descending towards the head of some hapless animated victim. 

Without getting into specifics, I'll just say this; I'm basically a janitor at the chemical factory where I am employed.  There are two others, one guy for mornings, one for evenings.  I covered this before.

Well, when the two of them walk around with their thumbs up their asses for most of their shifts, I can tell.  How can I tell?  I can tell by the extra workload I have to pick up.  I could have done what I've done in the last couple of months, and just silently picked up my pace to get caught up so that I could get to my own list of things to get done around the place.

I could have, but I opted not to.  I opted instead to growl at the morning cleaner just a little, and he sprang to life since I offered to help him get caught up (my subtle way of apologizing for getting grumpy with him).  When he went home at 3:30, I was busy cleaning out of the plant's bathrooms.  I didn't run into the second shift cleaner until a few minutes before going on my own lunch break at 4.  I could have grumbled at him right away, but I decided to wait until after my lunch.

When I got back in from my break, and noticed that he hadn't even started on any-fucking-thing that needed doing, I stalked his ass down like Jason Voorhees and made a very flat statement that was as follows:  "If you don't get to doing something around here, you're going to be coughing the tongue of my boot out for a month, because it's going to be so far up your ass that you can feel it in your fucking throat."

Stunned silence met me at this point, because I have never, in the five months I've been working there, taken such a cold and harsh tone with anybody.  Sure, I've ranted, grumbled and growled, but I've never, until today, delivered such a threat in the cold, calculated demeanor that it came out.

It seemed to work, though, because that asshole finally got around to cleaning out the locker area.  About fucking time I wasn't the only one doing that chore.

That's been my day.  How about you folks?