Saturday morning's overtime mandate dragged me out of bed at 6. It would be cold again in that old pickup. It doesn't really warm up until I'm a 1/2 mile from work, so I usually don't turn it on. What! Waste gas warming it up before I go? Forget it! I'm there first to unlock, turn off the alarm, turn on the heaters, then start up all the equipment in pre-press. Pressman Miguel will be only one coming in with me. I'm "filling in" while Corey takes a two week vacation (one of them in Bermuda). It has been a week of 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. I've perfected the dance and wasted miles of film trying to make negatives for the press plates. There is NO substitute for hands-on training. This week's feelings of frustration, defeat and failure have been mitigated by an encouraging supervisor and a few victories. Hey, you can only do so much with so little.
Alarm set, doors locked, I head for home, have a hotdog lunch and shower for a 2 p.m. wedding at Morris Chapel at UOP. Barb is sick, so I'm going alone. It's raining. It's cold. It's miserable, but I have my trusty umbrella and a warm jacket.
I pull into the parking lot and find myself the only one there. Maybe they called it off. Or maybe it's at another church. No cell phone, so it's back to the house where Barb meets me at the door and asks what's wrong. "No one's home," I said. She finds the invitation and we both stare at it. "Sunday at 2 p.m." it says, not Saturday.
I jump back into the car and head for Target to do my Christmas shopping. The parking lot is full.
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