I Got up

January 31st, 1999. I wake and think still lying in bed. It’s 5:55 A.M. I still had five minutes to sleep. Five minutes went by. I Got up, showered, dressed and drove to work. The same Red jeep is slowing down traffic and the same guy with the New York plates is trying to pass all twenty cars between him and the red jeep. He drives close to our back bumpers, nearly clipping every-ones back bumper as he angrily waits for an opportunity to pass us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a passing zone, double line, or intersection; he hates us all, and must be in front. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be a comedy.

I arrive at the bank where I work, walk though multiple levels of security, and enter the computer room with my badge. The computer room is so secure that even the bank president has not the access level needed to get in, nor any other bank personnel. I take shift turnover from 3rd shift, and begin processing job streams. A slew of words and commands go though my head, and out my hands into the keyboard. J Del. Offsite pulled and verified? Check voice; prepare “Ops Morning Report”, and many more made up words and commands that no one else uses. Some jobs produce print, some are recorded to optical disks, and left attached to the network for others to look at.

I’m done by three, and have left the bank by three thirty. I always stop in to visit my wife then. She is just starting her 2nd job of the day, as a clerk in the transit department. Before that she was at V.S.A.C. working at the front desk of their Williston location. She survives because she has to, and so do I. I kiss her good-bye and walk down the stairs to the parking garage.

I start the car, drive to a store, buy some beer, and gas if needed, and head home. I’m headed South on Route Seven. In the Summer time theirs Construction, in the winter there is snow, and always lot’s of traffic. No more of the every day six O’clock people like the drive in. The drive home is a free for all. All new speedsters and grannies, trucks and cabbies, volunteer law enforcers, and want to be law breakers. At least I’m headed home.

When I arrive at home, it’s empty, but for our kitty, Rosie. She’s happy to see me, because I can open cans of food for her, and open that big front door she’s always scratching at every time she sees a bird out the window. I pull out my laptop, pop open a beer and start playing video games, until my wife gets home at nine. Some times I make us dinner, but most of the time we just make our own when we are hungry. She thinks I don’t eat enough, I think I’m just too picky about what I eat, and can never afford what I like.

Soon it’s time for bed, I feel better now, but know tomorrow is another day, just like yesterday. I lie down, close my eyes and look forward to oblivion, interspersed with a few dreams. A dream begins and I know I’ve entered the realm of the sandman. The Dream Lord treats me well, and I’m free in his realm to do as I please. It is always a pleasure to visit and explore the people and places in my dreams now-a-days. I can always return back home safe in my bed instantly any ways. I drift away… until.

February 1st, 1999. I wake and think still lying in bed. It’s 5:55 A.M. I still had five minutes to sleep. Five minutes went by. I Got up, showered, dressed and drove to work. The same Red jeep is slowing down traffic and the same guy with the New York plates is trying to pass all twenty cars between him and the red jeep. He drives close to our back bumpers, nearly clipping every-ones back bumper as he angrily waits for an opportunity to pass us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a passing zone, double line, or intersection; he hates us all, and must be in front. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be a comedy.

I arrive at the bank where I work, walk though multiple levels of security, and enter the computer room with my badge. The computer room is so secure that even the bank president has not the access level needed to get in, nor any other bank personnel. I take shift turnover from 3rd shift, and begin processing job streams. A slew of words and commands go though my head, and out my hands into the keyboard. J Del. Offsite pulled and verified? Check voice; prepare “Ops Morning Report”, and many more made up words and commands that no one else uses. Some jobs produce print, some are recorded to optical disks, and left attached to the network for others to look at.

I’m done by three, and have left the bank by three thirty. I always stop in to visit my wife then. She is just starting her 2nd job of the day, as a clerk in the transit department. Before that she was at V.S.A.C. working at the front desk of their Williston location. She survives because she has to, and so do I. I kiss her good-bye and walk down the stairs to the parking garage.

I start the car, drive to a store, buy some beer, and gas if needed, and head home. I’m headed South on Route Seven. In the Summer time theirs Construction, in the winter there is snow, and always lot’s of traffic. No more of the every day six O’clock people like the drive in. The drive home is a free for all. All new speedsters and grannies, trucks and cabbies, volunteer law enforcers, and want to be law breakers. At least I’m headed home.

When I arrive at home, it’s empty, but for our kitty, Rosie. She’s happy to see me, because I can open cans of food for her, and open that big front door she’s always scratching at every time she sees a bird out the window. I pull out my laptop, pop open a beer and start playing video games, until my wife gets home at nine. Some times I make us dinner, but most of the time we just make our own when we are hungry. She thinks I don’t eat enough, I think I’m just too picky about what I eat, and can never afford what I like.

Soon it’s time for bed, I feel better now, but know tomorrow is another day, just like yesterday. I lie down, close my eyes and look forward to oblivion, interspersed with a few dreams. A dream begins and I know I’ve entered the realm of the sandman. The Dream Lord treats me well, and I’m free in his realm to do as I please. It is always a pleasure to visit and explore the people and places in my dreams now-a-days. I can always return back home safe in my bed instantly any ways. I drift away… until.

February 2nd, 1999. I wake and think still lying in bed. It’s 5:55 A.M. I still had five minutes to sleep. Five minutes went by. I Got up, showered, dressed and drove to work. The same Red jeep is slowing down traffic and the same guy with the New York plates is trying to pass all twenty cars between him and the red jeep. He drives close to our back bumpers, nearly clipping every-ones back bumper as he angrily waits for an opportunity to pass us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a passing zone, double line, or intersection; he hates us all, and must be in front. If it wasn’t so tragic it would be a comedy.

I arrive at the bank where I work, walk though multiple levels of security, and enter the computer room with my badge. The computer room is so secure that even the bank president has not the access level needed to get in, nor any other bank personnel. I take shift turnover from 3rd shift, and begin processing job streams. A slew of words and commands go though my head, and out my hands into the keyboard. J Del. Offsite pulled and verified? Check voice; prepare “Ops Morning Report”, and many more made up words and commands that no one else uses. Some jobs produce print, some are recorded to optical disks, and left attached to the network for others to look at.

I’m done by three, and have left the bank by three thirty. I always stop in to visit my wife then. She is just starting her 2nd job of the day, as a clerk in the transit department. Before that she was at V.S.A.C. working at the front desk of their Williston location. She survives because she has to, and so do I. I kiss her good-bye and walk down the stairs to the parking garage.

I start the car, drive to a store, buy some beer, and gas if needed, and head home. I’m headed South on Route Seven. In the Summer time theirs Construction, in the winter there is snow, and always lot’s of traffic. No more of the every day six O’clock people like the drive in. The drive home is a free for all. All new speedsters and grannies, trucks and cabbies, volunteer law enforcers, and want to be law breakers. At least I’m headed home.

When I arrive at home, it’s empty, but for our kitty, Rosie. She’s happy to see me, because I can open cans of food for her, and open that big front door she’s always scratching at every time she sees a bird out the window. I pull out my laptop, pop open a beer and start playing video games, until my wife gets home at nine. Some times I make us dinner, but most of the time we just make our own when we are hungry. She thinks I don’t eat enough, I think I’m just too picky about what I eat, and can never afford what I like.

Soon it’s time for bed, I feel better now, but know tomorrow is another day, just like yesterday. I lie down, close my eyes and look forward to oblivion, interspersed with a few dreams. A dream begins and I know I’ve entered the realm of the sandman. The Dream Lord treats me well, and I’m free in his realm to do as I please. It is always a pleasure to visit and explore the people and places in my dreams now-a-days. I can always return back home safe in my bed instantly any ways. I drift away… until.

February 3rd, February 4th, February 5th, February 6th, …, March, April, May, June, July, August,…, Two Thousand, Two Thousand and One, Two Thousand and Two, Two Thousand and Three.

Epilog February 4th, Two Thousand and Five, I’m enrolled at C.C.V and taking English Composition. It’s the second class of the spring semester. Thursday’s are different now.

Sources

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