Currently listening to: "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" by Glad

Gather 'round, readers. I have stories to tell. But this story has way too much awesomeness to be shown in anything but WIDESCEEEEEEEEEEN. Left side: WOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Right side: WOAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Right then. So... before I even got into work, I had a feeling it was going to be a good day. And it was. I crashed my cherry picker.

Now before you start getting any ideas about explosions and people on fire running around and me being blasted sixty feet in the air, let me replace "crashed." It shouldn't even be "dinged." We'll say "tapped." I had just put up a load of boxes and was going back for another. While turning, one end of picker hit a shelf. I got out to survey the damage. Looked like the picker's front cover was popped out of place. I got back in and drove to find someone (later found out that we aren't supposed to move damaged vehichles). I found Buster, and he called Bud, Lisa, and Jill. They asked some questions, and maintenance came down to check the picker. Then we went down to find the damaged shelf. The extent of its damage wasn't even visible. So they say I'll be in residual the rest of the night. Ah, good. It's over, then. Nope. Gotta go back with Lisa for signing an official "yes-this-happened" statement.

We walked to the other end of the warehouse to a small office. We sat down, and Lisa asked me to tell what happened again while she wrote it down. And of course, time dragged on at a ridiculously slow pace. She then tells me I can go over to residual. So I gather my things and walk over to residual. I'm getting ready to walk in, when the break bell rings. So I go to the break room. I grab some water and sit down. Ah, good. It's over, then. Nope. Intercom says to go see Jill.

So I head out and find her pretty soon. We go into her office and sit down. "Now, since your accident was 'reasonably avoidable,' we're going to send you out for a drug test." Now this seems to be getting out of hand. So they call up a cab so we can get to the "quick results" test before nine o'clock. So we're wating in the office, and she starts looking through some computer files. She says, "Oh, how was Church camp?" I say it was good. At least that takes away suspicion of drugs. And at the time, I was wearing my camp shirt from 3 years earlier. Eventually, the cab arrives. Since it's almost 9, we have to go to Sumner Regional for the test. I get in the cab, and the coolest off all cool coincidinces: the driver's listening to the Fish (for those that don't know, that's a Christian music station). So we got into a real good conversation. He's a cool guy. Eventually, we arrive at the hospital, and I do some tests, and then I take the breath test. It took me a few tries to get enough air through, but I eventually registered a .000, well below the legal limit. Ah, good. It's over, then. Nope. Jill tells me I can't come back to work until the results come back. I have to call her every day before work to see if I go to work.

On the plus side, I think I heard her mention something about administrative payed time something. I interpret it as a three to four day weekend. Woo!

So there you go. One of my longest posts to date. And chuck full of cool stuff. Now expect a comment from you. That means you. You read it, and you enjoyed it. I spent a long time writing it. I think I deserve a comment. In fact I think I deserve a trophy. Or a pizza. Maybe a pizza trophy.