Jill is with Alex in New Orleans today and tomorrow for Loyola orientation. College beckons!
Abby had a work shift this morning (she works at the City pools as a cashier) that started at 7:30. Meaning that if she took me to work, we'd be getting up at 6:15 to leave by 6:45 and I'd be at work way too damn early. I wanted to sleep in, so Lyft seemed a better option.
Of course, the other kid may have silenced her alarm yesterday morning, but didn't take the extra time to turn it off. To be fair, it was at 5:15 am, since she and Jill had to catch an early plane. How do I know it was at 5:15 am? Because it went off again this morning at 5:15 am. Thereby destroying all sleeping in plans. And speaking of destroying, it's not going off again tomorrow morning. Certainly, I could have turned on the light and figured out how to turn the alarm off. But it was 5:15 am. Unplugging the alarm clock was justified. Smashing it? Probably less so.
My morning Lyft commute was less sad than my after-work Lyft commute. Perhaps it was Paul, or his Chevy Malibu. Paul asked zero questions, which, if I'm being honest, is the exact number of questions I want to answer in the morning. His music choices were questionable, as was his route choice, but I opened the app at 7:40 and was at work by 8. That still seems unbelievable to me. It's almost as if Paul was hovering around the corner, even before I asked for a Lyft.
If I told someone yesterday on my cellular telephone that I was planning on using Lyft this morning, could Facebook have heard that and pre-positioned Paul? Certainly, there's a great deal I am messing up here, but mark my words - my television tonight will have many more Chevy Malibu commercials than normal.
So, today I am coming to terms with the gig economy. And tomorrow night, I start ingesting poison (prescribed). And Wednesday, I start getting irradiated. All in all, a week.
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