Earlier today (too early by our standards), we had that unit inspection that I wrote about previously. Got up at 8:30 to have time to get things ready, brought Conner out to the living room around 9, and then... sat for nearly three hours. Yeah. It was nice when they finally came, and in a way curiously interesting for watching Richard take a seemingly routine walk around a room, note things that needed fixing, then head on to the next. A joke was made about how people on the other floors must have been literally rushing through the apartments, because they seemingly made it through three or four in the time it took Richard and whoever his coworker was to look through ours, but after all that was said and done, they left to continue to the next unit, and we went back to doing things as normal. Well, I laid down in bed, but Jen decided to take advantage of having already been up all night to just stay up for the rest of the day (and night), and thus be up early the following day (Tuesday), which'll be helpful because she has an appointment. I, on the other hand, slept 'til 5, which is probably the reason I'm still awake now. While sleeping, I had an interesting (albeit distressing at the time) dream, which I remember as follows
Me, some random lady (thinking now, she looked roughly similar to a contestant on the episode of Hell's Kitchen we'd watched before I laid down), and an unknown number of other people were in a room. Lady had hospital scrubs on, so I presumed she was there on medical business, as evidenced by her pulling a syringe out of a bag she was carrying. I got the idea that she was there to give me an injection, so I went to pull up my shirt sleeve. Before I had a chance to react though, she produced a pair of scissors, and cut up and through it. I mentally flipped out, and said something along the lines of "What the hell are you doing?! You stupid..." followed by significant hesitation, then a certain five-letter word beginning with "B". Following that, I felt what can only be described as mild panic / anxiety while I angrily questioned her, asking why I couldn't just pull up my sleeve, why she didn't wait, and so on. At some point therein as well, I swung at her, and in slow motion punched her square in the mouth. Well, that is to say I punched her, but the actual motion was more of me pushing my fist into her lips and teeth, probably because I was laying on my stomach, and wasn't capable of the mobility required for an actual punch. The details after that are hazy, but I do remember thinking (dejectedly) that I could still at least wear my old white shirt. I think the dream ended after that, but it wasn't until I woke up a while later that I realized it had just been a dream. Prior to that, I thought it was all real, and was suitably distressed. To hell with all those sorts of things. Or something...
At any rate, I woke up at 5 as stated, to a quiet apartment, as Jen had gone out shopping with her mom. She got back home pretty quickly though, and the rest of the afternoon before I left for work was me laying in bed watching Fringe and eating chocolate, and her being busy in the kitchen making taco salad dip. Then it was off to work, for a reasonably good night. I wasn't sure what to expect, after the last time Manoah and I closed together, but nothing of note happened tonight, and he in fact even revealed (in no way that made it seem secret) one of the reasons he might have been in a bad mood before. Counting what he owes me, he's currently in debt on the low end of five digits. Yep. As I told Jen, I'd be pretty miserable too. Him aside though, work itself wasn't terribly busy, and I was able to get done everything I wanted to. Including yet another tray of sour cream, which is probably becoming unnecessary. You see, for some reason, my focus changed a couple months ago from prioritizing extra cleaning, to putting prep first. On slow weekend nights, I'll bag all the twists that are in bus bins, and put those bags back in the bins so the openers have an easier time. I'll also prep sauces, or pull torts, or, obviously, do up a tray of sour cream. Yesterday, Patience did one at ~9pm, and I did another around 10:30. Trays of sour cream are, by our standards, good for 24 hours. When I left tonight, Manoah was still using the tray that should've gone off at 9pm. I'm not sure how many bottles were left, but that means at lunchtime tomorrow (if not a little later in the afternoon, depending on how busy they are), they'll more than likely be using sour cream that's past its use-by time for twelve hours. Now, it stands to reason that there's some grace time - just because the sticker says a bottle expires on a certain day doesn't mean it isn't good past then - but it makes me feel kind of wrong at the same time. Maybe I should excuse myself on the grounds that tonight, I asked Manoah if he wanted that tray done up, and he said yes. But that doesn't work, because I should be the one to look in the walk-in first, and let him know how many trays / bottles there are to still use. Work things. Yay.
Moving onto more general things, a song on the radio gave me the idea to listen to music on the way home. It's been way too long since I've done that, and I thought it would make for a nicer walk, since I'd be going on my own. Ever since Orlando came back as a manager, he and I have been walking home together when he closes, and I've come to enjoy that, because it's nice to just talk and relax after a night at work. Since that wasn't possible tonight though, I listened to music as just stated, and it was... interesting. The album I chose was Ever After by Marianas Trench, which may not stand out very much to anybody else, but is (or was) significant to Jen and I, because I first discovered / got into it back when things between us now were at their very beginnings. Because of things that happened back then, I couldn't listen to it for the longest time because of awkward and uncomfortable memories, but apparently something's changed now. Strangely though, when I first set out, the music brought to mind not memories of things past between Jen and I, but something in Toronto. Specifically, being on the bus to Mississauga / Square One with Dan, hoping eagerly that the store he said sold giant plush animals would still be in business. I've been thinking about things there rather frequently lately, actually. About how it would be fun to go back, but how I haven't talked to him in so long that it'd be chiefly selfish of me to send him a message just in hopes of arranging another visit, as well as things we did before (venturing through the tunnels downtown, for example), and things that I'd like to do again if I ever went back. I keep telling myself that if that ever happened, the only way I'd go is if Jen was able to come with me, but the idea of even approaching her Mom about taking Conner for two or three full days overrules that, and I'm right back to where I started. Maybe I could go on my own. It'd certainly be worth consideration if I were to ever find myself in that position again, but there's still no way of telling how that would go. Getting back to music though, it was really nice for a while, but eventually frustrating. I decided to take a slightly longer route home, so I could listen for that much longer, but as soon as I turned down onto another street, every twenty or so steps some button on my PSP would get nudged, and the music would start fast-forwarding. Even with the remote lock on. Maybe what I need to do is remove whatever plugin it is that turns the screen off when the power lock is turned on. That music is the same thing that I was listening to prior to the start of this entry though. I've yet to make it through the entire album (which is a shame, because I seem to recall "No Place Like Home" being really nice), but yeah... music. Fun.
What else can I do here now? It's surprisingly only 6:30, and Jen's still fast asleep (although she stirred a few minutes ago, and I got right in close and whispered "magma" (an inside joke), causing her to repeat it to herself amusedly several times), and I still feel reasonably awake, but I can't think of much that I can do. Possibly go get my box of things from out in the living room and put them back where they were before the inspection, or just lay here and tidy up my desktop (I have more room now that Jen's rolled over and said something about "taste this..."). I feel like there's at least one other thing I meant to write about, but I can't remember anything else right now. Oh well. For now, I'm off to see what the time between here and whenever I get tired enough to lay down brings. Quite possibly nothing. Or everything. Magma~