High Alert, Low Payoff

So in my day job, we kind of watch the weather like Ted Bundy used to watch petite brunettes. It might scare you a little.

Creepy, isn’t it?

Anyway, for those of you who don’t watch the weather and don’t care unless it’s affecting your outdoor activities, there was a Category 1 hurricane that went through Louisiana last weekend.

Weather affects the amount of work I have, so we pay close attention. When we hear the word “hurricane” we have a tendency to go into DEFCON 5 mode. When I say “we”, I mean the people in charge.

Last Thursday, we were told to go into DEFCON 5 mode. We would work twelve hour days, seven days a week until EVERYTHING WAS DONE!

Change your plans! Rearrange everything! Get your asses in those chairs and handle whatever comes in!

So we did. I cancelled brunch with my besties, who I only get to see about once a month, or less, these days. My coworkers rearranged their lives too. We all hunkered down and watched Barry.

Barry made landfall. We all waited with…

What we got was…

So…I worked. I called people who were surprised to hear from me on a Saturday. I cleared out some mail that had come in. I emailed some responses. I sent letters and payments that needed to go out.

“We’re sending you home. We probably won’t get anything until tomorrow.“

So I went home and took Shane to the movies to get his Spiderman fix. I ended up staying way too late for an old lady who has worked six days straight and was expected to be at work at 7:00 a.m. The next morning I overslept and woke up about forty-five minutes before I’m supposed to be at work (it takes thirty minutes to get there).

I made it in to work about five minutes late and hurredly logged onto my computer…

Only to sit there for the next five hours staring at a screen that never changes.

I called The Husband Dude.

Me: They’re letting us leave early again. I want to float on my floatie in the pool.

THD: Will you be floating with JC?

Me: With Jesus Christ?

THD: José Cuervo.

Me: Oh. Yes. Probably. I was wondering why you thought Jesus would be floating with me in the pool.

THD: Well, they say he’s everywhere.

Me: Wouldn’t he be walking?

THD: Not if he’s drinking Cuervo.

Me:

On Monday, I decided to stop at my favorite coffee place, Rocket Brothers. Of course, that made me late again. I managed to get there at the same time my boss’ boss was walking in. We both knew I was late.

I held the door open for her and we made eye contact as I drank the Iced Raspberry Mocha we both knew had made me late…

The moment passed and we all sat down in front of our monitors, sure that we would have some work by now…

Boredom and exhaustion started setting in. What does Kat do when she’s bored and exhausted?

The Husband Dude tried to pick up the slack at home. I usually plan out meals two weeks in advance so that on payday weekend when we go to the grocery store, we have an idea of what ingredients we’ll need. THD took it upon himself to plan the menu, and agreed to cook the meals while I was on extended hours.

The list started off with burgers on the grill, hotdogs on the grill, chicken on the grill. Are you seeing a theme here?

Then it was spaghetti. Except, he doesn’t know my homemade spaghetti sauce recipe, so he tried to wing it by putting in what he knows I use.

Me:

THD: How is it?

Me: It’s good. Did you, um, sauté the mushrooms before you put them in the sauce?

THD: No. Why do you ask?

Me: No reason.

 

He tried his best to clean up the kitchen each night, too. Although, he did leave the dishrag wadded up instead of spread out to dry, so it smelled a little like death when I picked it up the next morning.

Listen, I’m not complaining, though. None of us starved or died and I didn’t have to do anything except come home and go to bed, so kudos to men who leave their comfort zones once in a while!

By midweek, we learned that the company we handle work for had received a whopping fifteen claims off this storm. Out of that, we received three. I came home last night and THD asked if I wanted to float in the pool again.

“Sure. Let me just pour myself some wine.“

As we floated lazily in the pool and I guzzled sipped my Moscato, THD recounted his week at work. I only remember snippets…

THD: …so I was like, are you going over there to do coke with him and he was like, no I gotta stay away from that shit…

Me:

THD: …they bonded over shared felony arrest records…

Me:

THD: …the kid is going to OSU...

Me:

THD: …so I turned to him and said, ‘Stay in school, Kid. Just stay in school…

Me:

THD: …I’m not doing their fucking job for them. If they want him to leave they can grow a pair of balls and fire him…

Me:

THD: ...the sad thing is, I kinda like the kid now…”

Me:

Don’t ask me to fill in the blanks. I have no idea what that was all about. My marriage is fully based on half-heard conversations and yelling, “What?” to each other from other rooms.

It works for us.

As you are reading this, I’ll be completing my twelfth day of work. The good news is, I WILL get to have a weekend.

Sorry if you invited me to anything. I’m probably not going. It’s not you. It’s me.

Until next time…Stay weird, my friends. Normal is boring.