May 7th, 2012

Clay. Bill...Clay.

Found! (Why not exclamation points?)

Right where I'd left them. I actually laughed out loud at finding them right where I'd left them.

Because I'd left them there two weeks ago.

The current job (which makes it sound like the job involves current, at least to my mind which makes a lot of odd associations, but no, it's the job I'm doing right now, good, that's clearer *) has varied in its hours. Sometimes nothing, sometimes overtime. And I was last there two weeks ago. At one point late in the day that day, I took off the work gloves I've been using -- already with holes worn in them, making me glad I wasn't handling the products with my bare hands -- and set them on top of a machine. I then forgot to take them with me.

Today was my first day back since then. I went straight to where I'd worked that day, trying to decide whether I could seriously expect the gloves to still be there, not knocked away or thrown away or flat-out taken or anything like that. Could I hope, even for something as small as still having kind of ratty gloves? But. There they were. Right where I'd left them.

They're here now, at home.

That reinforced a good feeling I have about this place: people's stuff tends not to get, shall we say, molested by others. Things don't stay lost. A couple of months ago, I saw one of the regular-hour employees come over to one of my fellow temps and ask if this was his, "this" being a cell phone left overnight. Overnight in a warehouse where two shifts' worth of people had been through since my fellow temp had been there. It was his. It was back in his hands.

My stuff was treated worse at that call center job I was at from 2001 to early 2004. One time, someone at that job stole a coat of mine. A loud yellow coat. Maybe the only yellow coat anyone had at that office. We never caught who'd grabbed it. I was able to replace it, and I'd keep that coat in a locker instead of on the coat rack that my earlier coat had been stolen from. I was not impressed.

I have been impressed with the place I've been at these last few months.

Such a little thing, finding my stuff where I'd left them, but that was a happy boost.


* Except that, the place needs power to run...so it uses current...it makes more sense now...)
Whale fluke

Antidote to Sad

Even by the standards of murder mysteries, Sue Grafton's "M" is for Malice is a sad story. One I stayed up to finish reading; I wanted to complete it tonight, and I was on a good pace to do that. Overall I've liked the series, and the story's compelling as you hope murder mysteries should be, but -- how should I put this? -- well,

D:

was my reaction more than normal.

(Yes, I decided the best way to convey my reaction was an emoticon.)

Anyway. An antidote to that will be nice. So a likely happy, quick read is on my night stand now: Axe Cop Volume 3. Yes, light and happy stuff about a cop who swings an axe and yells "I will chop your head off!"