Friday, June 22, 2007

Time to get a little anal

And I don't mean stuff oozing from my ass. I mean that I had my list and the universe was conspiring against me.

I had the best laid plans for today. Hell, I had a list. Because I do that. Make lists upon lists. Right after I made the list last night, I had to throw out a list from earlier in the week because it was no longer valid and would just confuse me if should happen upon it today. So now you have an idea of the twisted workings of my mind.

My list for today was broken into two categories -- things I need to clean and things I need to cook. Now this list was dependent on a great many things -- such as getting out of the hair appointment on time. But the universe conspired against me long before the hair appointment. I'd go into more detail but -- ah, fuck it. I don't work with her anymore so here goes.

One of my last duties at the school district was to construct a recommended class list for next year. I was ready to do such on Monday. Unfortunately, Queenie wasn't. She wasn't anywhere done with packing up her room. She also knew that I am having a party tomorrow for my birthday. Monday night I left her a message -- typical, the leaving a message thing that is -- stating that she should contact me when she was ready to work on the list. The list was due today by 3:00 p.m. She first contacted me at 7:30 a.m. or so today. I had already told her that I had a hair appointment scheduled for this morning. I called her back and said that we would have to do the list over the phone while I was getting my hair done. (I was in the middle of running errands at the time that I saw her message.) She wondered over how we would do this by phone. I told her that the alternative would be that she meet me at the salon. Guess how we got the list done?

To say that I started off my day in a pissed off mood would be an extreme understatement. This is not the first time that I have felt completely dicked over by Queenie. (And yeah, I'm really pissed off because I know she knows the URL for this blog and I really don't care.) I immediately called my mother to vent. Even though I know that my mother is tired of hearing my venting over the last year. In fact she has said, "If you keep this up, I may as well go back to work myself." My mother proclaimed that after all that she has heard over the last few months that Queenie must be highly self-centered. There are things that she has done that made me look bad to the administration. But I suppose she never thought of that. Which is why I got a little bitchy and vindictive over the last month or so. "Oh, I'm thinking of doing something and Queenie doesn't know? Fuck her and feed her beans." If it's a dog eat dog world, then I'm not the one who is going to be caught out there wearing a milk bone outfit.

So my first thirty minutes at the salon were spent on the phone with Queenie putting together the class list for next year. And I had the time because my hair stylist was not ready for me. I showed up ten minutes early and she wasn't ready for me until 35 minutes past my appointment time. Grrrrr! Add this onto the fact that the two -- yes, two -- clients who were there before me had really long processes to go through so they weren't leaving anytime soon. Thank goodness I had decided in the middle of the conversation with Queenie to run around the corner and to pick up lunch.

By 2:00 p.m. I realized that my hair was at a state that I would still need at least another hour in the shop. The problem was that I needed to meet up with my aunt by marriage. (I know that sounds convoluted. Basically she is my uncle's ex-wife. But they had a kid. And were married for way too many years. So she's still my aunt.) Back in May when I went to do that work for my father, we ended up at a barbecue at her house. I inadvertently left my camera there. (Now y'all know the answer to why the few pictures I have posted since then have totally sucked. Taken with my cell phone.) I had arranged to pick the camera up from her today at her school. (She's a school principal.) But the deal was that I had to be there before 3:00 p.m. Her school was at least a 20 minute drive from my hair appointment and so I needed to be out of there no later than 2:30 p.m. Well, the state of my hair at 1:45 p.m. told me that this would not be possible. I told the stylist to blow dry my hair and that I would be back to have her finish it.

The trip should have been quick and painless. It wasn't. I had written down the address for the school -- in a city with which I am not that familiar because when I was growing up, they didn't really welcome my kind there -- as her son, my cousin, had given me. I showed up at the site and the place was locked. Finally some workmen told me that they were doing construction there and I would need to go to the temporary site. They named some other school. I looked at them and told them that I was not that familiar with the area and would need directions. It took almost five minutes to get directions that I could actually follow. (And mind you, I had hair from hell stuffed under a baseball cap at this point.) I eventually found my way to the school and got my camera. I also got an invite to the aunt's next barbecue. Don't know why. At the end of the last one -- when I left my camera -- she accused me of acting ghetto. I wasn't ghetto. Just depressed. But maybe those are the same thing.

My hair was finally done at 5:00 p.m. I was supposed to be home for hours by then. So much for the list. By the time I got home, I was feeling totally wiped. And so now I am thinking about turning in and just getting an extra early start in the morning.

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