Making It Up As I Go Along #353

SUNDAY...
— Work. All alone today but, being a Sunday, it’s a fairly quiet day at work. A couple of perked up times but, overall, an easy pace. I’m sure tomorrow won’t be the same.
— Use my GPS going home tonight. I knew how to go home already but haven’t used the GPS yet and wanted to test it out. Good stuff.
— Watch a movie in the evening and off to bed. 4:45 will come too soon.

MONDAY...
— Work isn’t super busy for a Monday day shift. Busy... but not run off our feet.
— World Junior finals. Canada 5-1 over Sweden for their 5th straight title. Been a good tournament... the games against America and Russia were great (besides the shootout silliness in the Russia game).

TUESDAY...
— Sleep until about 9:30. Watch a movie, “No Country For Old Men”, on DVD, have a little computer time... then back to bed for a nap at 2:00. Simpson’s on TV and a bite to eat before heading to work.
— Work is fairly quiet. We have lots of DNA forms to work on, so we’re kept going most of the night, but not much else happened.
— Hit the gym for an hour tonight. A bit on the bike and some weights as well.

WEDNESDAY...
— Stormy day outside. I hang out around the house, sleep until about 11:00 in the morning and get another hour from 2:30 to 3:30 in the afternoon.
— Work is alright. The drive in was better than expected and the evening went by pretty well. Some time at the gym and then drive home Thursday morning while all the poor people are bumper to bumper trying to get into the city at 6:00 AM.

THURSDAY...
— In bed by 7:00 AM... up at a few minutes before noon. Lazy around the house until 6:00 then it’s off to the movies with Missy and Nick. Down to the Dirt is good... dark and not a pretty movie but still good. Mostly filmed in Newfoundland but not aiming for the scenic look. St. John’s is mostly back alleys and the docks. Melissa’s cousin is the writer and star of the movie... and that’s cool too.
— Gas and groceries picked up after the movie.

FRIDAY...
— Annoying time getting to the hockey pool supplemental draft today. Get a fool parking too close to me at the bank... too much traffic going in to the office (partly due to the bus strike and partly due to the fear of too many of snow on the side of the road even when the road itself is clear)... get to the RCMP mess at about 3:25 only to find the door locked. Go to enter from inside the HQ building but I get lost in the maze of hallways and end up having to go back outside in order to get through the formerly locked door 15 minutes later. Get there in time for my pick but the bar isn’t open and people leave when it’s all done. So that leaves me to drive back to Orleans in peak rush hour... a trip that takes more than a half hour.
— Watch Batman’s The Dark Knight in the evening. Good good movie. We need more Heath Ledger in this world.
— I believe the kids on the Sportsnet “I Believe” Olympic commercials will be the death of me. I CAN’T believe that I’ll have to endure a year of six year olds trying to talk inspirationally about the Olympics with a catchphrase being repeated over and over and over again. I Believe... I’ll be sick.

SATURDAY...
— Home day. Do some laundry and watch some movies.


‘Tis the Season

Yes it’s true, Christmas is gone by yet again. So it ‘tisn’t that season. No, this season is one I wrote about last year and that has crept back again this year. ‘Tis the season of electrocution.

I don’t understand the differences in static electricity. In Newfoundland, while getting in and out of the bed that was sheeted in fleece, I’d see a little fireworks display at my feet as sparks glowed the sheets without jolting me. It almost made me want to climb in and out of the bed over and over again just to see the electric show.

My house in Ottawa is a different story. I also have fleece sheets, but I see no spark, bolt, or light show on my getting up. This doesn’t mean the electricity doesn’t generate. I know this because when I go to my bathroom and flick the light, the jolt of electricity that charges through my finger and into my body is enough to fire me backwards... over the bed... through the window... and down into the snow three stories below. My charred remains left to sizzle in the winter blanket atop the ground.

Last winter ended with me thinking I must get a humidifier in hopes this will keep my house from becoming a two story execution chamber. But the summer warmth and moisture softened me and I went into this winter forgetting about the horrors of light switches, and lamps.

I was reminded in November. Small spicks of electricity, not enough to hurt but just enough to wave at me... “remember me?” Oh yes... the fear slowly crept back into my soul.

Now I’m back to full on electrical warfare. Electric fences at farms keep livestock hemmed in. They get to a point that they won’t even near the fence as they know what awaits them there.

Well my home is that fence... and I’m livestock. I enter rooms hoping not to have to flick on a light. With more nightlights throughout my house, I can sometimes get away with living in a perpetual dimness.

But on those occasions where light is a necessity, fear grips my soul. A cold sweat beads against my skin and my heart races with anticipation.

On those rare occasions when I escape the zap coursing through my body, I lighten and breath a sigh of relief. I’ve actually gotten to a point where I can turn on lights with well insulated elbows or, if more dexterity is needed, I’m wrap my sleeve over my hand and poke the light with the nub of a knuckle. Anything other than a fingertip. Fingertips seem to gather electricity with greater efficiency than any other device known to man. I wonder if lightning rods are tipped with human fingers? It would only make sense.

And those times when I’m too confident in my abilities. When I think I haven’t scuffed the carpet with my feet or that I rose from bed without much friction, I’ll go to the switch without protection... and blue lightning jumps out to bite me... right on that lightning rod atop my hand.

I now know why the saying goes “cursing a blue streak”. Because after that blue streak of electricity, I transform into the most foul mouthed hate filled being you’ve ever seen. Every four lettered, colourful adjective you could imagine is blurted out of my mouth within a three second period as I shake my charred finger. The echo of the electrical zap hangs in the air.

So what do I hate most about winter? Is it the cold? The winter driving? It used to be either of these things. But now it’s the fear that comes with it. I walk through my home afraid of the light. For I know the price I must pay to bring winter light to my world.