Locked Out / Thursday, November 10

In case you've not heard, I got a job, man. 

Part-time office manager in the commercial cleaning industry. 

Note the use of the word of "industry." 

It's key. 

I pulled into work on this particular morning, parked and made my way to the front door.

Locked.

Oh boy. 

I'm so new, I didn't even have a key. 

I did, however, have my camera. 

The morning looked like this. 

It felt pretty freakin' cold, though.

Like 30˚ freakin' cold. 

Now, at this point, you're probably assuming I had on a coat and gloves. 

I did not. 

I don't do that sort of thing until -30˚. 

You know why?

Because I'm from North Dakota, donchya know. 

Believe you me, 30˚ above feels delightful. 

Brisk, even. 

And in 30˚ above, I noticed there's still some green in the grass. 

So now you're wondering why I didn't just get back in my nice, warm vehicle. 

That would be because for the first time in a week, I really took a look around. 

In an industrial park. 

There was texture and interesting stuff everywhere. 

In discarded carpet pads, for example. 

 Or haphazardly strewn hose.

Full disclosure: that hose is not ours.

Sam (HI, SAM!) would probably have a stroke if he saw hose or extension cords improperly coiled. 

Don't worry, I'd visit him in the hospital. 

Mostly because he brings me doughnuts. 

I'd have to make sure the goodwill kept up while he was out sick. 

I'm not sure why that got so dark so fast.

Must be daylight savings.

Hey!

Look at that rust. 

Is it a pallet, or an outdoor bookshelf? 

 

I played "walk the plank" while I waited.

Folks?

Meet Plank.

(Points if you get the "Plank" reference.)

Pole dancing, anyone?

Just when I was considering taking a spin, Justin showed up. 

(HI, JUSTIN!)

Guess what? 

The next day, I got a key.