So everyone at work is secretly accusing me of breaking the elevator on Sunday morning. When I got on the elevator to remove some pallets that another guy had placed on there (and forgotten about), I backed the forklift onto the elevator and went to close the doors to send it down to the lower level (where I go to change the battery). To my dismay, the door was jammed and even with me hanging off of the strap that lowers the door, it would not budge. I went and got another guy to ask if he could move it down but even he was unable to get it to move. I was beginning to freak out because my forklift was nearly dead and all of the zinc coming off the strip machines (the machines that feed me the zinc) were starting to get backed up and the furnaces that I feed zinc into were beginning to empty out. Panic mode began to set in quite quickly at that point.
What they ended up doing was driving the forklift over to one of the cranes and lifting a battery up with that. Why does this shit always happen to me? I touch the elevator and it breaks. Like my friend Gill said, "me and machinery don't mix". This seems to be true. I'm thinking that my reference for this job is getting worse and worse by the minute. I can just see some future employer calling Teck to ask about me, only to have them say, "Oh yeah. That girl. Damn she breaks a lot of stuff. Watch out for that one."
The past two days (my first 2 days off) have been just flying by and yet I feel like I have accomplished nothing. I got my hair done yesterday and went to the chiropractor which was great because, 1) my hair was getting to that almost mullet stage (see previous blog), and 2) I haven't had a good back cracking for nearly 2 weeks since my chiropractor was on holidays of a while. After some quick grocery shopping I rushed home to make dinner for my mom, and of course Chris. Dad, Amy and Cadance all went to the lake yesterday but mom stayed behind for a day because she had an appointment the next day so she was going to drive there the next day to catch up with them. I didn't want her to spend the evening alone so I invited her to have dinner with us. I BBQ'd up some bison burgers, corn on the cob and some coleslaw (dairy-free coleslaw though which is way gooder than the crappy kind that everyone else makes). Typing that out made me realize that that's basically the most cliche summertime meal ever.
By the way, gooder IS a word! It's in the dictionary right next to stupider.