Tag Archives: day off

Surprise delivery

I have these days off from work, it’s not a real weekend, it’s a Tuesday, I work in a restaurant, and so my week doesn’t really match up with anybody else’s week. There are definitely some perks. Like my days off are really my days. I have them all to myself. All of those things like going to the bank or running errands, stuff that everyone else has to take care of during a lunch break, that’s not really a thing for me.

And so yeah, that’s cool. But today, this Tuesday, it’s been raining out since I woke up. And so I don’t want to go outside at all. At first it wasn’t a big deal. I have enough cereal and coffee in the house so actually leaving the house didn’t have to be an option. Not at first anyway.

But a bowl of cereal only gets you so far, and then it was lunchtime, and I still had zero desire to put on a pair of pants, much less finding a pair of matching socks, an umbrella. I mentioned it was raining, right? It was raining when I woke up and it’s raining now.

And it kind of feels like, come on, this is my day off. What should have been a nice day of getting stuff done turned into this day of lethargy, I’m unable to get out of my seat. My hunger mounted to the point where it was two or three in the afternoon, and while I didn’t necessarily want to eat any more cereal, I really knew that there was nothing that was going to get me outside, not until the skies cleared and the ground dried.

I kept looking at that box of cereal, why was I fighting it? It was almost an inevitability at this point. Eventually I’d get hungry enough and, barring some delivery guy accidentally dropping food off at my house, I’d make a move and pour myself a bowl.

That would be crazy though, right? I mean, if a delivery guy did mistakenly ring my doorbell, I couldn’t just pay for the food. It’s funny because it’s happened before. Not often, but maybe like two or three times, I’d hear the doorbell, it would be the delivery guy, he’d be like, “Dee-LEE-berry,” and I’d be like, “Nah man, you must have the wrong address.” And he’d just kind of stand there for a while.

One time I felt really bad for the guy, he didn’t know any English at all really, and so when I told him that he must have the wrong place, he kind of just stood there, staring at me, holding his hand out. And how do you make hand gestures that spell out, “No. Wrong house?” I mean, obviously I was already shaking my head no, and it wasn’t getting through. So I finally took the order out of his hands, and I walked him the two or so block down to where he needed to be.

But man, if that had happened today, I would have been like, yes, thank you, how much was that again? Here you go, thanks. And it would be like a surprise delivery. In fact, I wish there was such a thing, surprise delivery. Like, isn’t that the worst part about getting food delivered? Figuring out what you’re going to get, where you’re going to get it from? They should start a company, Surprise Delivery, you text your address and however much money you want to spend, and then half an hour later, “Ding-dong! Delivery! Surprise Delivery!”

That would be awesome. But it would never happen. And even if I did get an accidental delivery right now, and even if I did pay for it, I’m sure it would get back to me. Whoever ordered their food would call back eventually, even if they couldn’t get it straightened out, someone’s night would have been ruined, no dinner, just transferring my hunger onto a random stranger. And maybe it would get straightened out. I’d get a knock at the door, that delivery guy, “Why’d you pay for this food? What the hell man?”

No, I just poured some more cereal, I got full. That’s all I’ve had today is cereal and coffee. And I’m just sitting here, I know it can’t be good for me, like aren’t there all sorts of other nutrients and stuff that cereal alone can’t provide for the human body? What kind of a day off is this anyway?

Happy Labor Day

Happy Labor Day everyone, if that’s what you’re into. Personally, I feel like Americans are always looking for an excuse to take another day off, like the weekend isn’t enough time to sit around not being productive. Not me, I’ll be working extra today, double, or even triple if I can hustle fast enough. Because that’s what makes America great, working, getting back to work, taking a five minute break instead of a ten minute break, and then only using three of those minutes.

My grandfather always used to say, “Work smarter, not harder.” Out of respect for my elders, I’d hold my tongue. But now that he’s dead, I don’t feel bad holding back. That’s a lazy man’s motto. My motto is, “Work smarter and harder,” emphasis on the work. Just keep going, don’t stop moving, never stop working. There’ll be plenty of time to not be working harder when we’re dead.

And while I’m on the subject of dead people, talk about lazy. They’re laying around doing absolutely nothing, no work at all, zero productivity, and yet we have to get them nice suits, fancy coffins, we’re supposed to take time out of our busy days to reflect upon all the good times, visiting their graves every once in a while. What a bunch of nonsense. Look, I’m sorry that you’re dead and that you’re no longer of use to the workforce, but do you think it’s fair to be eating away at the billable hours of the living?

Look, this is probably all coming off as incredibly insensitive. It’s just that I always get riled up on Labor Day, another half-baked excuse for the hippies and the communists to loaf around all day and act like work is some sort of a chore, like sitting around and binge watching an entire season of Breaking Bad is something not only to be proud of, but something deserving of a national holiday.

Has anybody checked out the roots of Labor Day? I think it’s supposed to be an actual day of labor, like all right fellas, summer’s over, enough whining about the heat and trying to sneak out of work early at eight. Let’s hit the fiscal year hard, starting now, starting today, Labor Day. And that’s where you’d see your Labor Day sales, stores like Brooks Brothers and Sears would get you to load up on work shirts and trousers, so that way you couldn’t make up any excuses like, “I need five minutes to drop off my dry cleaning.” Just undo the buttons and put on a fresh shirt. And make sure you’re changing during your three-minute breaks, on your own time. We’re not paying you to put on a fashion show, here.

I’m sick and tired of people afraid to roll up their shirtsleeves and put in an honest day’s work. Everyone’s always taking bathrooms breaks or hanging out by the water cooler or dropping of their parents at the oncologist. What ever happened to a good old-fashioned work ethic? Since when did sweat and a little elbow grease become such scarce resources?

Oh no, it’s fine, I understand, your family’s having a barbeque today. Excuse me, I didn’t realize that sitting around and eating hamburgers was somehow beneficial to the economy, good for the bottom line. I’m sure the shareholders will understand why our revenue was off by about a fifth this week, “Sorry ladies and gents, but the boys felt like sitting around and drinking beer today, blowing up stupid inflatable pools for their snot-nosed little kids, even though they’ve just had a whole summer not going to school, not learning anything, because their lazy teachers with their socialist unions refuse to work for two months out of every year.”

And we wonder why China’s catching up, right? I hate to say it, but that’s a country, a people that really value the meaning of the word labor. Every day is Labor Day in China, and in a good way. Not like the commies over here, everyone looking for a government handout, another excuse to take the day off, “But boss! It’s Christmas! But boss! My mom just died! But boss! I’m just so lazy!”

Think about it. Think about what makes us great. Think about what gives your life meaning. Think about you, sitting in your backyard, shoving hotdogs down your fat face. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, I’ll be in the office, working. Let’s get back to work people. Happy Labor Day.

Rob’s day off

I had off today. When I woke up, I made a plan. I’d spend the whole day writing. I’d march right downstairs and sit at the computer and type out a ton of work, volumes of material. But now all of the sudden it’s almost 10:00 pm. I don’t know what happened. What about my plan? I thought it was a pretty decent one, as far as plans go. So now here I am, obviously a little more hurried than I had prepared for, and I want to get something down.

So what did I do with a whole day off by myself? Yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned that it’s not a regular day off, it’s a Monday. I mean, it’s a legitimate day off, but working at a restaurant, I often find myself with days off completely to myself, because everybody else is working. Especially on days like today, where I decided to skip showering and grooming, I always wonder if my neighbors think to themselves stuff like, “What’s this guy’s deal? Does he have a job? Why is his wife always gone but he’s always out walking his dog in his pajamas?” I want to wear a custom t-shirt that say, “In case you’re judging me, I’ll have you know that I work irregular hours at a restaurant, sometimes during the day, sometimes at night.” But to put all of that on a t-shirt? The font would have to be really small for it all to fit. And so if the neighbor that I’m imagining is judging me in his or her head, it’s probably from behind a window, not really close enough to read that whole message screen printed on a shirt.

But yeah, I went out to walk the dog in the morning. So that’s not really explaining where the day went. I drank a ton of coffee. Usually, and knowing that I know this kills me, but if I don’t start writing as soon as I feel the caffeine kick in, the coffee is just going to get wasted. All of that chemical fuel will just get spent wasting time on the Internet, or pacing around in a circle in the living room, something totally unproductive.

So I blew enough time to where all of the sudden I had to make lunch. The morning evaporated. I don’t know what I did really. I read some stuff online. I think I might have played a game of Internet Settlers of Catan. But then it was lunchtime. After lunch, which didn’t take long at all, I got this crazy idea in my head that now would be the perfect time to finally watch Prometheus which, for various reasons, none of them worth mentioning, I never got to see. But this was like one in the afternoon. This idea to watch a whole movie came out of nowhere, like I hadn’t even thought about this movie in forever. And not one part of my brain stepped in to interject an opposing thought. Nothing in me said, “Hey Rob, you know that movie is like three hours, right?” or, “Hey Rob, don’t you think you should maybe do some writing and then watch the movie?” There was no resistance. I thought about the movie, turned on my XBOX, rented the movie, and sat down to watch it, all within sixty seconds. It’s like my day was hijacked by Ridley Scott tag-teaming with my basest instincts of immediate gratification. And seriously, if you’ve seen the movie, well, I’m sure we all at least would have appreciated our money back, seeing as how it’s impossible to refund three hours of a person’s life.

And I had wanted to see this movie so badly that I couldn’t really consciously appreciate actually watching it until like two hours after it had finished. Of course, the movie ate up what should have been the most productive chunk of my day, and the next thing I know, my wife was home from school. “How was your day?” “Good, I finally watched Prometheus.” “Oh wow, didn’t you want to see that like six months ago? How was it?”

And I couldn’t answer. That was my first clue that something was wrong. I even opened my mouth to say something generic, “good, fine,” whatever, but my mouth was frozen. So I started thinking, did I like the movie? And I couldn’t answer that either, because I really didn’t know what was going on. So I went online to search for some basic answers to what I thought must have been elements that I had simply overlooked in the plot. But it turns out that everyone else who saw that movie shared similar frustrations. And in checking out everyone else’s critiques, it dawned on me that I was reluctant to agree with them only because I had been looking forward to watching it for so long.

So after I realized that the movie was terrible, I just kind of felt really deflated, bumming around the house. I was going to go running or something, but I didn’t. I still haven’t showered. I promised my wife I would cook something, because in the morning, before she left, I was all like, “Are you kidding me? I’m going to be so productive today! I have the entire day to myself! I’m going to write, I’m going to cook, I’m going to do the laundry!”

Fuck. Seriously, as I’m typing this out, I’m just now remembering that one of the first things I did in the morning was to throw in a load of laundry. But that’s all I did. I didn’t change it to the dryer. I didn’t get to any of the other loads. And I’m pretty sure that first load was our sheets, so they’re going to smell awful, just cold and damp all day long, and there’s no time right now to rewash them and wait for them to then go through the dryer. Damn.

Oh well, but I did cook. I went to the grocery store to make tacos. I was going to make pork tacos, but in the meat section I saw this package of chicken hearts. And I just heard them calling out to me, “You pansy. You wouldn’t know what to do with us. Keep walking, amateur.” And I was like, oh yeah?

So I bought them. They were like fifty cents. I think I rose to the challenge. I seared them real quick and then braised them in some stock. And I chopped them up and made tacos and told my wife it was just dark meat. I eventually told her, after we were done, but by then she had already finished, “And besides,” I pointed out, “you loved them. You ate every bite and loved it.” And she couldn’t disagree. Still she told me not to do stuff like that anymore without asking, but I don’t understand the problem. She’s living with a culinary mystery box.

So yeah, that’s it, Rob’s day off. Also, my wife bought three giant bags of Halloween candy, but we didn’t have any trick-or-treaters. Not even one. So today I ate all of it. It was the best. Just opening up the bag brought back vivid memories of Halloween as a little kid. But I don’t remember the stomachache being this bad. Maybe I just ate way too much today, heart shaped candies, taco shaped hearts, it’s all too much. Way too much day off with way too little to show for it. Except for this, that is. At least I got to write this. And at least you got to read it.