I’ve got one word about how tonight will be at work.

other than doing it manually, is there a way to disable comments in all posts older than, say, two weeks? I’ve been looking everywhere and can’t find an option for it.

I wanted to write about the fat retarded woman driving her motorized wheelchair westbound in the eastbound lanes of Cranbrook Road, but when I got home I found sixty spam comments left by some jackass pimping Phetamine, and now I’m just piiiiissed. Easy enough to delete, and just “for your information” SpamKarma II has been increased to it’s “total beeatch” setting, and most of the optional adjustments moved from “normal” to “strong” or “supastrong.”

What this, I believe, will mean in the short term is that I will be moderating more comments, so if your comment doesn’t appear right away, please don’t fret. If you have trouble with comments not appearing at all, please e-mail me and we’ll work through this — like I said, SpamKarma’s gonna be a total beeatch because I am sick and effin’ tired of spambots.

(And in the time it took me to write this, I’ve gotten twenty more phetermine comments. Work SpamKarma II! Work!)

When I finally got into work yesterday, I wasted no time making up for lost time. As I mentioned, Chewbacca, who’d been at the store for an hour and a half longer than me, only had two runs more than I did to show for it. I like to pride myself on being able to take any delivery quickly and efficiently — the shortest route to the house, and the right address on the first try.

I made a newbie mistake, yesterday.

I was looking for a house in the 15500 range of Old York Road. I decided to run Jarrettsville Pike north to Manor. Manor deads end at Old York — which is to say, if you’re on Manor, you see a left-hand turn for Old York, but even if you don’t take the turn and go straight, whoopsie daisy, you’re still on Old York Road once past the turn.

As I was driving up Manor Road, I sort of made a booboo. The previous night, I’d taken a delivery to a 15500 address on Manor, in fact, the address was two digits lower than the Old York address I was looking for. It’s a bit of a pain that Manor and Old York intersect each other in the same address range, as it can confuse newbies and, on occasion, even vets like me. Long story short, by the time I realized my mistake and that I should’ve taken the left onto Old York, I was looking for a turn around. I saw one, but a woman in front of me pulled into the drive and let her dog out — probably the owner. I tried to use the entry of Hess Road as a turnaround, but someone pulled up to make a left right before I made my turn. I pulled onto Hess, found a driveway of a construction site, made my turn around, and hightailed it back down Old York, made the right I should’ve made as a left earlier, and found the house two down on the left.

All told, my mistake added maybe three or five minutes to the delivery time. Still can’t help but wonder if I’d been faster, would I have ended the night with seventeen — as opposed to sixteen — deliveries? ‘Course, if I had gotten back faster, would the orders I have taken instead tipped as well?

Bah.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Greg called and asked me to come in early. Last night was the last school night we were doing for the middle school before the end of the year. I was scheduled at five, but he wanted me to come in at four. I’d been napping when he called, so I pulled myself out of bed, got dressed, and staggered through the living room, pulling on my sneakers and collecting my wallet and cell-phone and glasses. It wasn’t until my apartment door slammed shut behind me that I realized, as I pawed at all the pockets on my cargo-shorts, that I’d left my keys on the dining room table.

I have never, ever, ever, locked myself out of my apartment before. I snapped my key in the lock, yes, twice as a matter of fact, but I’ve never been so careless as to walk out the door without my keys either in my hand or in my pocket. None the less, that’s exactly what I did do, ten minutes before I needed to be at work.

Thankfully, I had my cell phone, so I called Henderson-Webb’s customer service line and arranged for a tech to come out and let me into my apartment. What I didn’t know then, but found out when he arrived an hour later, was that I was one of ten individuals in the various Hen-Webb communities along Cranbrook Road who somehow all locked themselves out of their apartments between three and four. Unfortunatly for me, I was number ten, and last on the list to be let in (only one guy, it seemed, was on “let in duty”.

So it was just about five o’clock that I left my apartment, in my car. I drove down Cranbrook Road, intent on taking my usual way into the Franchise — right onto Ridgeland, another right onto Warren, follow that across the bridge to Merryman’s Mill, then up to Paper Mill. Oh, but was yesterday a day wanting to make things easy for me? Of course not. There was a police car blocking Warren Road at Bosley, and the officer was waving all traffic onto Bosley. No big, I thought. Old Bosley connects to Dulaney Valley. It’d be an extra five minutes on my drive, but I’d live.

Then I got to Old Bosley, which was backed up most of its length. It should’ve dawned on me that a lot of folks heading into Phoenix, Jacksonville, and Fallston and Bel Air from their city jobs take Warren Road, and were now being forced to take Dulaney via Old Bosley. Realizing that the timing of the light onto Dulaney Valley only lets through about five cars a cycle, I turned around and decided to take my chances on York Road.

If you’ve lived or worked or visited the Hunt Valley area in the last few months, you’re probably aware that there is a great deal of construction going about on the York Road corridor. Last night, construction was at an all time fuck-up. York Road southbound was completely shut down, and traffic being diverted onto Wight and into the industrial park. There was only one lane of northbound traffic. Long story short, from the time I got my keys to the time I got to work was close on three quarters of an hour.

Once at work I wasted no time in taking deliveries, and at the end of the night, Chewbacca — who’d gotten in at 4:15 — only had two more deliveries than I did. Tips were excellent, traffic was mostly light, it was a beautiful evening, and my average tip and mileage was $5.18. Not too goddamn bad.

“My name is Snay and I’m addicted to blogging.”

Anyway, the point of this post is the UBB flash drive that should be on my keychain:

(This is my sixth post in an hour … I time delayed one of them for tomorrow morning).