Screwed by Fate, Penetrated by Irony! Aaarrgh!
I work the day shift today. The day shift starts at 10:00 a.m. As you can see from the time this is posted, I am (at the minimim) going to be an hour late. Why? Why am I not getting in my car and rushing to work? Because my tire is flat! Good-fricking-morning.
I called work, said I'll be a little late, and then attempted to struggle with the lug nuts for about twenty minutes; they are corroded on past my feeble strength, even after spraying them with oil. Called AAA, and they gave me a window of now to 11:53 a.m. And since they don't supply new tires or new donuts (my spare is looking like shit), I will, more than likely, need to be towed to a tire dealer to buy a new one (or four + spare). I swear, whenever things start looking even, the car breaks down or gets wrecked or needs a new exhaust system.
So here I sit.
I'll probably get to work just in time to leave.
The irony of the situation is yesterday while at work, someone from the night shift called and asked if I could cover their shift. In other words work the whole day because they couldn't come in. I said I'd be willing, but had to ask the Boss since the extra hours would put me in overtime (I picked up a couple of hours on Satuday to cover A.K.'s temp absence). Of course Frantic said no. Now the extra Saturday hours will just (barely) allow me to break even for the week.
"Man makes plans, God laughs."
Well, at least we got a company-wide raise of sorts because The Leader wanted to be more competetive with other companies wages (um, still a little ways to go, Gordo, like maybe full time associates with some health benefits, mmm-kay?). Full timers got a buck, part timers fiddy-cents. Yay, my base pay is finally higher than minimium wage: whoo-hooo! Filthy Lucre! Slap my ass, and call me Trump-daddy!