Burnt or fried?

I must say that today, while beginning normally, despite that I started work an hour later than usual, ended quite differently than I might have expected.

I started work at 2:00 instead of 1:00 today because I was going to stay an hour later tonight to help the manager of the store and another guy move some shelves around and what not. When I finished cashing off at 9:30 the manager, Dave, came and asked if I knew of any good places to order pizza. That was music to my ears, because one of the customers at work today kind of smelled like Wendy's (at least I like to think that's what it was), so I was craving fast food.

We ended up staying until about 11:30, which was an hour later than I was scheduled to work, so Dave let me choose between getting paid for the extra hour, or I could take home a CD of my choice. This also was music to my ears (no pun intended), as I was so tempted earlier today to buy the Deluxe edition of the new Jimmy Eat World album, which I'm currently listening to the second disc of. Needless to say, I went for the CD. Wicked!

Anyways, I got out to the train at around 11:35 or so, and was surprised to see the trains just sitting in the station with the doors open. At first I was scared that they'd closed the lines for the night, because then I'd have no way to get home. When I actually got to the train, however, I saw that there were people sitting in them, so I got on and waited as well. I figured that it was a similar deal to the train at Broadway that goes to Brentwood that'll sit and wait for people to board for about five minutes. Anyway, it turns out that the trains weren't running because somebody had gotten onto the tracks around the New West station, and the cops were apparently trying to get the person off. Eventually they just ended up closing that entire line (being the one that I needed to take to get home, despite that by that time I would have missed my last bus home anyway). This posed some what of an interesting dilemma as to what I was going to do with myself, considering that I didn't even have a quarter to call anyone for a ride.

I ended up bumming a quarter off the security guard in the mall (bless his heart) and calling my dear friend Melissa, who was kind enough to give me a ride home. She was doing homework for her painting class at college, however, so I had to walk from the mall to her house, which took around 15 minutes. This wasn't bad, though, because it gave me the chance to listen to my new CD.

Anyways, she couldn't afford the possibility that her paint might dry, so I hung out at her house while she gradually mixed black paint (which she concocted herself) with white to make varying shades of grey, with the point being to arrive at white eventually, or so I understood. I have to say that I would never have the patience to do that myself, but I wasn't bored or anything as she was doing it. She let me listen to her copy of REM's Out of Time which she just bought, and which I haven't listened to for quite a while, so that was nice.

And what is the point of this story? The point is that I had what I would consider a weird night, in light of the fact that were it any other night, I would have just caught the train to Braid and taken my bus home from there.

Oh yeah, I had this weird dream last night that Jesse and I robbed a bank in some small town where everyone knew who I was, and I'd forgotten to wear my ski mask (which Jesse just shrugged off, cos he remembered to wear his). I felt so bad for what we'd done, but then I realized that I was only dreaming, and I felt so much better. Weird.

Oh, and for some reason I took my velvet painting off my wall last night in a half-asleep stupor. When I woke up this morning I hit it with the door because I had just layed it on top of some crap on my floor. I couldn't figure out why the heck I took it off the wall in the first place, but I think it's because I bumped it or something and for some reason it made sense in my mind that I'd have to take it off the wall in order to straighten it, and then I couldn't get it back on the nail, so I just gave up and put it on the floor and fell back asleep. Once again, weird. That kind of reminds me of the time I had the other velvet painting I had above my bed in Dalmeny fall on my head as I was sleeping and in my dream I was in a cage that's roof was collapsing on me and I was going to be crushed. I ended up waking up standing fully upright on my bed, pushing on the ceiling, calling for my mom. I was like 19 or something. What the heck have they been putting in my food, anyway? Geeze.