Talks-to-Owls and I have agreed that this Tuesday never seems to end. It’s been about 37 days since we last had a day off of work. Which makes every single day Tuesday. In a regular week you can spend Monday reflecting on the past weekend, on Wednesday you’re halfway through, Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is the end! But Tuesday? Just another day with nothing great on either side of it. So here I am having been through more than a month of Tuesdays, with half a dozen to a dozen more in front of me. Sure the bulk of it is behind me, but still, the light at the end of the tunnel is faint and seemingly far away. I guess it won’t truly be bright until I actually have a solid end date. And that end date does depend on how fast my team can work, but it has many wobbly and unknowable outside factors creeping out of the tunnel shadows.
I work in the construction industry, in an office that was, until my arrival, mostly male. I currently have a staff of 5 temps, all female, that are sitting in the larger shared office space that was, as stated, all male. Overheard this morning (before the girls arrived):
S: Man, the ratio of boys to girls here is just so different you can’t even be yourself no more.
K: Better let one off before the girls get here.
S: T just did.
*I walk into the room laughing*
T: I ate daffodils for dinner last night. It’s flowery when I let one off.
S: Farting honeysuckle everywhere you go, I knew you were that kind of guy.
T: Flowers and poppy seeds, that’s all I eat.
On the one hand, hilarious. On the other hand, what does it even mean? I’ve been having weird Wizard of Oz field of poppies visions all morning because of that conversation leading to me to read more into it than I should and wonder what the underlying metaphors I missed were. (The answer, none, no metaphors, just boys BSing.)
I have mentioned elsewhere that I am making a conscious decision NOT to boycott BP over the oil spill. There are many reasons for this, the main one though is that the gas station I drive by every morning, my most convenient station, is a BP station. I have been going there regularly for 4 years. I know and like the people who own it. I don’t want their livelihood to disappear just because they signed the “wrong” franchise agreement. Honestly it could have been any oil company that caused this disaster and I do not want to see any more of the little guys get hurt.
(Southern Beale has written an excellent post on the kind of “punishment” that is fit for BP after this disaster. Surely much more effective than a consumer boycott.)
Truly I ache for the fishermen, the people who live on those coasts and all the regular people who are so seriously impacted by this (we all are in the environmental sense, but the folks who might not pay bills right now because of it really weigh on me). And it’s so wide reaching. Like now BP might withhold dividends on stocks? Which would hurt British retirees whose retirement funds include BP stock. How many more average people can BP fuck over with their greed and incompetence?
Here are some things I like:
Banksy, especially his “Shop”
And my cousin and his wife had their first baby this week!! Welcome Caleb James (who was clearly named after me, though that’s a joke that probably only my mom will get). Weighing in at 9lbs and 4oz! Hello big boy! He’s healthy and home with mama, poppa and puppies. HOORAY! Here’s his “little” toes: