Today I had a couple of random thoughts while talking to Gabe on communicator (he went to my high school and now works for my company but in Florida). He was asking me how I was liking my job and being on the front range and what what exactly I do in my day-to-day job... so I was trying to describe it. First random thought while trying to explain myself: My job is like those commercials you hear on the radio for Netflix: "If Jack and Jill went up the hill, where is Fred?" "Milwaukee?" "Correct" ... basically I feel like I just take a stab and what I'm doing (there are a lot of phone calls to my lifelines...sorry to mix metaphors here), and then wait to see if I'm right...or just wait until one day someone will ask me "What the heck have you been doing up there?" This is my life. (I'm being a little dramatic but it's pretty much like that)
Then Gabe posed a really fantastic question: "How do you think Mr. Wiley would do your job?" Only Gabe would think of such a brilliant question to ponder. I should talk to him more often. For reference (in case someone besides my mom is reading this...unlikely but just in case) Mr. Wiley is my high school drivers ed, life skills, shop, and Ag teacher (not that I was in shop or Ag anything but those where his classes). He was as folksy and country as a man ever was and he just said great things every day. He called the girls sweetheart (not in a creepy way but in an endearing way when he would get fired up about something: "THANK. YOU. SWEETHEART.") and excused himself for saying stupid in front of us ladies (even though everyone knew his language in the shop with the guys could have made a sailor blush). He knew more about cattle and soil than anyone else I've ever met. This man scared the socks off of me before I had him as a teacher (gruff voice and sort of frown-y neutral face and often didn't speak to kids unless he was scolding them for some misbehavior) but once I was in class with him I loved him about as much as a kid can love a teacher. He taught me that you never want to buy hamburger with two low a percentage of fat because it will cook down and taste like a hockey puck. Same with steak--gotta have some good marbling or you'll need to cut it with a chain saw. (if you knew him you would have known how he would say that and you'd have giggled...trust) I think of Mr. Wiley frequently while driving--his voice guides me into my parallel park jobs...not that their lack of quality is his fault... So many funny stories include him and I'm sure new ones are born in his class every day.
How this man would do my job, I have no idea but it's really fun to imagine and that alone will buoy my spirits and entertain my downtime for weeks to come. I have a hunch that no one from my high school reads this (pretty much a sure thing) so there are no people cracking up with me over this... but that's fine with me because it tickles me pink and that's all that matters.
So no matter how the rest of my week goes I'll at least be as happy as I am when I think about these rando thoughts. Let's do this.
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