Start Your Car | 05/20/04

I was awoken out of a deep sleep by a phone call. Twas Jamie. Apparently her car wouldn't start. When I arrived on the scene I was informed it was because there was no gas in the car. If you've driven with Jamie then I know you're shocked. She's so good about keeping gas in the car! And when I say good, I mean bad--real bad. Anyway, I threw Chompy and The Ab into the Taurus and we hauled off towards the Shell gas station on Railroad. When we got there I was volunteered to go in and buy a gas can, which I did. We filled it was gas and then went back to try to get it into the Jetta. After spilling about half a gallon of gas all over ourselves and the ground, we decided it best for her to take my car. Since it was now 7:30am I decided to do some more research for W&M for the upcoming interview. After a couple hours of trying to navigate their down-for-so-long-it's-not-even-in-google's-cache-fine arts site, I worked on some music and mailed another batch. Ahoy, though. I was supposed to go out to lunch with Bryan Richards and my goal was to get everything done before he gave me then "Where ARE you" call. Alas, I got the call. I also got a ream of paper from the stockroom. No more having to reduce things to 25% and duplex to fit eight pages per sheet anymore. Hooray. We went to the American Cafe in the mall and I somehow managed to drink seven Hawaiian Punches plus a to-go cup. I don't even really like that stuff. Anyway, he dropped me off and I fought the urges to take a nap. I spent another couple hours researching the school and trying to come up with scary questions for myself. Jamie came over as I was falling asleep and we went back to work on the car. I temporarily stole a gas can with a long spout from Potbelly's (because they're the type of fine establishment that leaves gas cans littering their yard) but the screw-on top didn't work. Finally, we took the old can, screwed the top on as hard as we could and just poured without worrying about spillage. Surprisingly, this tactic worked and a gallon of gas later the Jetta was running. I topped of the Taurus' tank and washed up. I tried to watch the Cubs game but TV Guide's online listings were wrong for the third time this week and it was not on. Jamie took me out for dinner to Applebees. Afterwards, we stopped off at Publix to get some deserts but I fell asleep at 10pm--as soon as we got back here. Flash to 12:45am. Chompy is killing Abby. Seriously, Chompy is killing her. Maybe since I was in the deepest of deep sleeps and didn't know any better and (without my contacts in I can't see anything) instinctively jumped into the middle of it, grabbing the first dog I could find, flipping her over and shielding the other one with my body. In this case, I learned it was The Ab and she, thank God, is ok. In the process I cut my knee and foot on the table in my bedroom and gave myself some pretty disgusting rug burns. My heart was racing so fast I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I didn't, of course, but now I'm wide awake. It's now 1:30am and my interview is in a mere 8 hours. I spent the last 45 minutes doing some bonus research from students of W&M and they all praise the school but hate (and I mean hate) the town. Not that I'm a bar guy but there are only two real ones to choose from. I spent some time on Mapquest this morning trying to find the distances between Williamsburg and some major cities. It's at least an hour to Richmond but it appears that I can get to the beach pretty easily. If this all works out (and OH MAN I hope it does), it might be nice to live in a place that come 5pm and my workday is over I can sit and compose or relax in peace and quiet. No Dave Matthews Band cover-bands wrought with four-chord prodigies keeping me awake at night. No more Potbelly's! That is probably what I'm most excited about getting away from, pardon the bad grammar. In other news, we may have another gig on the 30th. Speaking of dates, somehow I managed to screw up the dates of this whole month. I tried to fix it but then I realized that no one cares, including me. Today is right, though. It's weird to think that in 24 hours my future could be completely different. The salary range of ths job is between 35-42k/yr. That is so much money to me! I could have a nice little townhouse or condo-type deal and still be able to buy a new cichlid every week (Mike's cichlid's of steel to your searchers) WHILE buying plenty of treats and toys for sweet pups. Abby just went back into the bedroom. I don't hear any growling yet, though she is squeaking, which drives Chompy crazy. And no one likes Chompy when she's crazy.




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