On call again.
I really like the money--that is certainly not the problem. It's the constant text messages. Our system at work generates an error when there's a problem, and sends me a text message.
God, I have come to loathe that sound.
Then there's the techs I have to deal in when I call in to work, explain the problem and get assistance with fixing it. The tech this morning says, "I don't really have time for that." Huh? If I had hair, I suppose I would commence to tearing it. I have just never been the type that is able to say that. I would have helped even if it made me mad enough to spit nails. It makes me doubly angry because of that.
I didn't get to go to Oolenoy last night, which is a shame. I knew there was no point since I was on call. I would just wind up coming home, likely in a foul mood. Oolenoy is the former one-room school house where the local jam takes place. Some of the people there favor the "combat jam" approach where you wind up having to elbow your way in, but I think there are just as many good people there.
Just picking the rest of the evening, and trying to enjoy it. I will have a good time...even if I have to force the issue.
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