Enough of that depressing top 10 list. I've been too busy to mindlessly write something clever/sarcastic. This week hasn't been very kind to me so far. Sunday I still had a cold when I went to work, and it just made everything a lot less fun. Then monday I just hit a wall. Couldn't think straight, couldn't force myself to tough it out anymore (and this was on my 'day off') and I just avoided my family for the whole day. Didn't even eat that much. Shut out the world for the day while I got some sanity back, because over 3 weeks of working 7 days a week is not the way to go. Ever. If I ever start doing that again, anyone who reads this should pull me aside and hit me repeatedly, or find some way to remind me about what trying to be invincible accomplished - nothing. No money is worth the way I've been feeling, strung out so much that I can hardly work.
But, life goes on. It doesn't slow down like people do on the highway to stare at an accident, it doesn't change pace when it suddenly gets busy - it just goes. You can either panic that you're not driving, or you can control as much as you can in your world while it moves along.
I'm currently moving from the former to the latter.
Anyway, to the point of this post, its title, and to the self-incriminating story housed therein...because everybody loves a good incriminating story.
So, I don't know how much a pallet of canned food weights, but I'm guessing it's somewhere around a ton and a half, two tons. That's heavy. If that falls on me, there's not a lot I can do in the survival department that doesn't include turning green and getting really big and angry. Normally there's no reason a pallet on the ground would jump up and collapse on me, but some of them are on racks that slide out to let the new, full ones show when the old ones run out. But sometimes, they catch on the rails and don't slide, or only slide when you don't want them to.
So the other day I had to go inside one of these shelves, with pallets on rails, and get a whole bunch of packs of cans. All the while I'm assuming that one of these cans is going to lighten the weight enough that the pallet is going to come sliding free, and I'm going to be separated from my knees by a juggernaut of foodstuffs. So, I'm getting the cans, when it starts to move a little. I get the cans faster. Eventually I have to look and see what type of food is about to take my life.
It is, of course, corn.
I am here writing this today because I obviously did not get killed by the pallet, but all the same if I had died, I think my friends who knew me best would probably just laughed at the all too-fitting demise-by-corn of yours truly.
And thus the Nebraskan made fun of himself again.
Miscellaneous:
-Praying for a certain someone to get out of surgery safely.
-Hope another someone doesn't get mad that I'm definitely not calling them this week.
-Hope ___ knows what they are doing, because it is going to be a long year regardless.
-Ready to completely give up on ____. How can you keep on acting like this? Your immaturity is advanced as your insecurities, which are pretty damn high I'd imagine.
-If I can keep straight who I meant some of these for in the next six months, I'll be fricken amazed.
-No more Mr. Nice Guy. This is the way things are, pal. Get used to it.
-Thanks for understanding, while at the same time being able to never comprehend a God-forsaken thing that I say. That's quite a talent you have there.
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