Friday the Thirteenth can kiss my ...

I swear I should have realized this was Friday the Thirteenth without someone having to tell me, but I didn't. I should have known, because if it could go wrong today, it did. I had to go in to work early today, a twelve hour shift. No one should ever work twelve hours in a row, it just isn't natural. Anyway, after a blissful four hours of sleep, the alarm clock starts beeping at me. So what do I do? Well, I hit snooze, naturally. I looked at the time and thought, why the hell is it so early? And right back to sleep I went. Have you ever been thankful for a telemarketer? I was, at nine thirty this morning. The phone started ringing it's strange little "long-distance call" ring, and I actually picked it up, because I thought maybe it was my honey. No such luck, he is too much of my honey to call me that early anyway. He generally waits until at least eleven o'clock, and then offers to call later when he hears that I am sleeping. (What a doll, huh? HAHAHA, he is mine and you can't have him.) Okay, back from my tangent... where was I? Oh yeah, so the phone wakes me just in time to jump in the shower and get awake. No time for coffee though. Then off to work I go. I am sitting out on the smoker's patio, having that last smoke before work, when the sprinklers decide to go off, and soak the bottom half of one leg of my pants. What were they watering you may ask. And funny you should ask, because I asked myself the exact same thing. See, all that particular sprinkler head got wet, was me, and a whole shit load of rocks. Apparently they are under the impression that if they water the rocks, they can grow mountains. So, I am now ready for work, with my hair still wet from my shower, and one leg drenched. And off I go into a room where it is kept at a balmy thirty four degrees. I get suited up in all my gear (the honey says a hard hat on a woman is sexy, that is only because he has not seen us all dressed up in our gear: long white lab coats, big black rubber over shoes that make my feet look bigger than Ronald McDonald's, white plastic apron, white plastic sleeves, cotton knit gloves with two pair of plastic gloves over them, bright blue ear plugs, hair up (mostly in a bun, but sometimes in braids, and once in pig tails) under a hair net, topped off with a white hard hat that is usually dripping some kind of gravy (I do not know how I get gravy on me every night, I just do)). I walk in hoping against all hope that I get to work in the back room (final pack) since we are there as extra helpers. No such luck. On the line, scaling, is where I end up, as usual. I hate scaling. In fact, it is so boring, that I do it for hours while thinking of other things, since it requires only one brain cell to do it. Twelve and one half hours later, I head out the door to go home, on my phone (the cell the hubby got me to "keep in touch" with him) is a message saying I have five missed calls. All from home. Worried now, I call home immediately. My son answers, and informs me that his worthless father and even less useful Grandfather, have taken my car and disappeared. It is now 2:03 in the morning. I have to work again today. They still are not back, but as the bars all close at 2 am here in Iowa, I expect that they will be shortly. I will not be able to sleep until I know they are home safely. The children are all still awake, and refusing to go to bed, because they are all stressed about the inevitable argument that is to come when the hubby finally does get home. But they need not worry this time. All I will do this time is take the keys, Pull off the distributor wires (and hide one in my purse), and go to bed. There will be no fight. There is nothing left worth fighting for. The fight is all gone out of me. When I leave for work, he will still be sleeping it off. When I get home, if he is sober, I will ask him to leave. It will be hard, but I am out of options. When I was a kid I watched all the "Friday the Thirteenth" movies, and was afraid of Jason. After today, I think Jason is a pussy, and any axe wielding maniacs on the loose tonight, better be afraid of me. That's all, Goodnight.