Whilst I was gone on vacation, our erstwhile maintenance crew (ever searching for worthwhile work to do), managed to dig up the swamp out behind central security yet again.
For the seventh year in a row, so far. I'm sure they were doing it before I came to Raccoon City and I'm sure they'll still be doing it long after I depart.
They seem pretty serious about it. Or at least they have dug a serious hole. It stretches probably fifty feet from central all the way to the mattress factory. It uncovers four or five of the secondary lines running off of the main. Remember when that one blew? We thought we might have to go rent some john boats just to sign in and out of central.
Of course, the main line is somewhere four of five feet to the left of where they actually dug. I hope they know that. Or maybe they are saving it for an encore. Who knows?
I've been told that they dug this trench some time in the middle of the week I was off. Then they stretched some yellow caution tape around it and left.
And there it lays. The hole thing, as it were.
So, of course, none of the rest of us could be serious about it. Even if it is a serious hole.
Some joker put a sign on one of the mounds of dirt that reads:
WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE
50 POUND MOLE.
CALL EXT 262 WHEN FOUND
Some of us only dream about doing things like that. Other aspire to greatness.
I got some odd and half not-unexpected info this evening. A little birdie related to me that there are some people who are very glad that I got out of the Hive when I did, as "the rain is going to fall there soon."
That just does not sound good. If it's bad news I am glad I got out when I did, but I do worry about my crew. I hope they don't get caught in the middle of anything stupid. Hopefully they will keep their eyes and ears well open and perhaps whisper a word of advice to those without internet access.
If they **cough cough** BG **cough cough** know what I mean.
And I'm happy that there was someone who was glad I got out before the bad things happened. We don't get alot of support most days. We cling to what we get.
I still think about the place that was my home for so long. I don't particularly want to go back to being crazy all of the time but I miss the action, if you know what I mean. But I also know several people (namely KP, my wife and my doctor to name a few) that would slap me on the back of the head if I went back down there full time. It just wasn't good for me at all.
Who knows? Maybe I'll find a place I like and settle in somewhere that I don't have to run my bleep off for eight hours a day. Maybe I'll find it before our maintenance crew tunnels into the earths core and kills us all.
That would take a heap of yellow caution tape, I'm sure.
A report on grumpy me - *Forget about my husband; this is all about me. It's been a strange week of little things going wrong.* *A cap came off a tooth, a cap which can probably ...
3 days ago