Today is a day for listening to metal - not hair metal/butt rock, but more like P.O.D., Linkin Park, etc. Today is a day for blaring metal at eardrum shattering decibles. I don’t do drugs, I’m not really freaky, so this music (and a glass of cold lemonade) is my release.

Why in need of catharsis? Well it all started last night… I was on duty and around 1am I got a call that someone was locked out of their room. This is no big deal - when duty-ing you get to drive the golfcart wherever the sitch is happening.

So I took the cart up to the desk and got the dude in his suite. Crisis solved… for now.

I’m not sure why- my brain must’ve been on autopilot - but I locked the chain to the stearing wheel, but left the keys in the ignition. Consequently, new crisis occured.

So I decide to get to bed around 1:30, and was deep in dreamland when I heard that sound - the sound anyone who’s on call dreads - the phone. I got a call from the front desk. I was told there were three police officers at the front desk, and they had my cart. My head was spinning. I wasn’t sure if i was really awake or still dreaming, as I tried to imagine how the po-po had the GC I locked outside my front door.

Apparently two drunk kids saw the keys in the ignition, and decided to take it bar hopping downtown. The golf cart was stolen!

I was very ugly - in my pajamas and wild hair at 3:30 am, but met with the officer and got the specifics. One kid ran away, but the one they caught was wrecked out of his mind and was in the clink for Drunk in Public. They couldn’t really charge him for larceny, because the keys were in the ignition. Bah.

So after that fiasco, I had only three hours of sleep before waking and driving the (now recovered) golf cart through campus for morning rounds. I got to sleep again for about an hour before I got a call from the desk. I went back to sleep… for ten minutes. Yeah, I got called again. Consequently, I spent my morning on emergency linen crew hauling sheets and mints and soaps around campus.

All the while I’m chanting “this job rocks” - who cares if it’s not true at this particular moment? You gotta have mantras to make it through when things are in FUBAR-mode.

File this under: Sunday, bloody Sunday

Posted in VT, Work