If my apartment's this bad, imagine what it must be like in the rest of the city. Of course they won't declare a Level 3 emergency in Franklin county, even though pretty much all the counties around us are. For the uninitiated, Level 3 means only emergency vehicles are allowed on the streets. Anyone else supposedly gets a ticket, or arrested. Obviously, this means businesses are closed.

A Level 2, which we're stationed at now, is vaguely defined as "essential traffic only." Since businesses remain open, employers all feel that it is essential that employees report in to work. Well, I reported in today, but only over the phone to tell them, "Fuck you, I'm not coming in." Well, not exactly in those terms, but that was the general gyst of things.

Luckily, the guy I called in to was a guy I started with back in da day. Whereas I took the path of least responsiblity, he's now one of the night managers. He said I wasn't the only call off. There's no sea-food manager, and aparently no bakery people are coming in. He was pissed, because that meant no donuts. Hopefully several more will, as well. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one out there.

Girl, on the other hand, HAS to go in, or she gets written up and demoted. She's hoping the car won't even move out of the parking lot, so she'll at least have an excuse...more of an excuse than the "treacherous roads." (Seems to me if the word "treacherous" enters the picture, you should be allowed to stay home.)

I managed to make it to work the past couple days, and I noticed the snow seems to be making people either stupid, or crazy.

I worked late on Saturday (scheduled in at 7am, got in 4 pm), and apparently there was some sort of school Valentine's Day dance at one of the local high schools. Kids were coming in all evening in formal dresses and tuxes. One group gathered around the beer cooler and milled about for awhile. They looked like they were debating amongst themselves whether any of them looked old enough to buy beer. I was thinking, "That's not going to work!" Here's some advice for the teens out there, if you're going to try to buy beer, for godsakes CHANGE OUT OF YOUR FORMAL DANCEWEAR. Or just hit people up in the parkinglot to buy it for you. No one's going to sell beer to young-looking people in their school dance clothes.

That was stupid, now on to crazy. Naolean, never known for his appreciation of spontaneous humor and fun, was in the back room yesterday singing "Let It Snow" at the top of his lungs. He even started making up his own colorful lyrics. He was laughing and having a very good time, which is definitely not normal Napolean behavior. Obviously the snow was making him start to crack. I kept expecting Scatman Crothers to come running in and Napolean to plunge an axe into his back, or go into the grocery office and see his computer open to MSWord and about 500 pages of "All work and no play makes Napolean a dull boy."

Very bizarre indeed.

Anyway, I'm going to go shovel the hallway and perhaps have a snowball fight with Jackass.

Wooderson

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