Michelangelo sibyl from the Sistine Chapel


the kid in me

Last night when I walked into work I could tell that Ann was having a bad day. Whenever this kind of thing happens, I don't feel the need to pry or ask questions. More often than not I just sit and wait until the person decides to tell me what is bothering them. My feeling is that if they want me to know what is bothering them, they'll tell me without any prompting on my part. Sometimes people need their space more than they need someone to listen.

Naturally some people share their problems with me more than others do and I don't try to force them into one category or the other.

After a few more minutes of me being there, Ann did tell me what was bothering her and it wasn't anything that I could change or fix. All that I could do was listen and that seemed to make her feel slightly better. Ever since she has moved to Wisconsin she has had one emotional crisis after another and each one seems to be more dramatic than the last.


Ann was sitting in one chair with another chair in front of her. She then wrapped her legs around the other chair. To me this seemed like the perfect opportunity to distract her from her troubles. In one smooth move, I sat down in the chair in front of her, grabbed her feet and proceeded to scoot her around the floor in our makeshift train. Despite her cries that we were going to tip I nearly made a full circuit of the room before the second shift manager walked into the room.

Sometimes it pays to be immature.


Perhaps as a means of revenge for my poor computer advice from yesterday, my parents had asked me to help them move some appliances this morning. They had bought a new refrigerator and it was scheduled to be delivered in the afternoon, but they needed my help to move some other things before this happened.

They already had an older refrigerator in the basement, which they were now going to throw away. Once that one was outside, they were going to my move what will soon be their old one to the basement. So in summary this meant hauling one refrigerator up from the basement and then taking a different one down into the basement.

Moving large objects is not something that I do well, but I was determined to do the best that I could. In hauling the first one up from the basement, I was given the choice of being at the top where I could pull or being at the bottom where I would have to push. I opted to pull.

My dad and I were making a smooth climb to the top when we ran into a snag. I couldn't get enough leverage with the handle of the dolly so high in the air and ended up going back down three steps while my dad kept telling me to stand the dolly up.

After a short break and some more coaching from my dad we tried again. This time I made it to the top, but managed to pin myself between the wall and the refrigerator.

Thankfully I got it right on the third try.

When we took the other refrigerator down into the basement, I opted to be on the bottom and it went much smoother than going up the stairs. I didn't mind having the weight of the refrigerator pressing down on me. In some ways I felt like I had more control than from the other direction.

In the end I guess that we did okay. I did however end up with two circular bruises on each of my forearms. Personally I am amazed at how evenly spaced there are on the arms. One might almost say that they are parallel in terms of location.

In hindsight I'm not sure why they didn't have the guys delivering the new refrigerator move the other ones for them. Then again the cost for my labor was a breakfast of eggs and toast.

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