You Won’t Have FNG to Kick Around Anymore
We learned this morning that a new person started working for us today. I am officially no longer the FNG. My title has passed.
Fortunately for me, the boss has continued to forget to bring the 30-foot extension ladder, and thus far I have avoided climbing my fat ass up to the peak of the house. I’m cautiously optimistic that the newly appointed FNG will assume this task; however, he is currently working at another site, so I’m still the reigning FNG at our project. Given that we are working off of the last few lines of the punch list with the goal being to finish with the job at the end of this week, I think there is still a strong probability of heading skyward before it is all said and done.
Towards the end of the day, my Hispanic counterpart and I were discussing work site injuries. We went through the usual, splinters, blisters, nails in the feet, you know, the fun stuff. Our discussions invariably lead to an analysis of how much worse it is to get hurt at the end of the day than the beginning. About two minutes later, I skidded my knuckles across the sharp end of a downspout causing a nice shaving of my skin. As my hand bled and my coworker laughed, I could only ponder whether I would have still hurt myself if we weren’t talking about it.
Speaking of splinters, those most unholy of bastards, I somehow managed to get one underneath my fingernail this morning. I’m seriously thinking about wearing gloves anytime I have to work with this rough sewn cedar. The stuff is just full of splinters; it’s ridiculous.
Well, I thought splinters sucked, but now I can say with authority that splinters under the fingernail are definitely worse. My heart goes out to anyone that was forced to suffer the bamboo shoots beneath the fingernails treatment; that’s just evil.
After my evening shower, I sat down and began digging and carefully cutting with an exacto-knife. The feeling of finally grabbing hold of the tormentor and slowly pulling it from its spot of pain generation was almost orgasmic. I HATE SPLINTERS!
Fat Weekend
I finished the day out at 178. This weekend must have given me just enough time to fatten back up a little. Nonetheless, my daily calorie burns will continue and progress should resume.
Fortunately for me, the boss has continued to forget to bring the 30-foot extension ladder, and thus far I have avoided climbing my fat ass up to the peak of the house. I’m cautiously optimistic that the newly appointed FNG will assume this task; however, he is currently working at another site, so I’m still the reigning FNG at our project. Given that we are working off of the last few lines of the punch list with the goal being to finish with the job at the end of this week, I think there is still a strong probability of heading skyward before it is all said and done.
Towards the end of the day, my Hispanic counterpart and I were discussing work site injuries. We went through the usual, splinters, blisters, nails in the feet, you know, the fun stuff. Our discussions invariably lead to an analysis of how much worse it is to get hurt at the end of the day than the beginning. About two minutes later, I skidded my knuckles across the sharp end of a downspout causing a nice shaving of my skin. As my hand bled and my coworker laughed, I could only ponder whether I would have still hurt myself if we weren’t talking about it.
Speaking of splinters, those most unholy of bastards, I somehow managed to get one underneath my fingernail this morning. I’m seriously thinking about wearing gloves anytime I have to work with this rough sewn cedar. The stuff is just full of splinters; it’s ridiculous.
Well, I thought splinters sucked, but now I can say with authority that splinters under the fingernail are definitely worse. My heart goes out to anyone that was forced to suffer the bamboo shoots beneath the fingernails treatment; that’s just evil.
After my evening shower, I sat down and began digging and carefully cutting with an exacto-knife. The feeling of finally grabbing hold of the tormentor and slowly pulling it from its spot of pain generation was almost orgasmic. I HATE SPLINTERS!
Fat Weekend
I finished the day out at 178. This weekend must have given me just enough time to fatten back up a little. Nonetheless, my daily calorie burns will continue and progress should resume.
posted by fuqstik @ 8:51 PM
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