Wednesday, December 2, 2015


Yippie, it's Wednesday. I still think of my weeks when working five days a week, weekends off as  'Hump Day'. Getting a job at a factory living in Biddeford, Maine suddenly I was hurled back in time when I was going to school, counting down your week. Monday the countdown to Friday would begin. When you got to Wednesday your excitement would grow as you looked forward to the weekend and hoped you didn't have any homework.

When I got my first factory job I loved the Monday through Fridays with weekends off. Payday was Thursday.I never knew why they did it that way. You get paid, if you partied you headed for the nearest beer store after work only to wake up the following day with a killer head knowing you had to get through one more day, Friday, then you were free, to party and start all over again only this time IT WAS THE WEEKEND, yippie.

On these days of over indulgence, I would stumble out of bed heading for my coffee and perhaps some aspirin. As the previous night would slowly fade away and by that I mean 'slowly' I would begin to dress. I was living in an old drafty farmhouse which meant having to start a fire in the furnace. It's harder to get dressed when certain frozen parts were in danger of flying off embedding themselves into the nearest wall.

Being an old place, it did have any lighting in the loft to get dressed. If the neighbor's lights were on and shined through the window sure, but I loved this big airy freezing lightless place so that was okay. With the combination of partying, the morning after party head fuzziness and no lighting getting dressed were a challenge at least for me.

I finally get all done dressing, the farmhouse would be nice and warm, (the bastards that I was living with were still sleeping), and down the hill I would go to meet my ride all toasty warm from at least 5 layers of clothing. I used to joke that if I fell to the ground I would be like that kid in A Christmas Story, "I can't get up".

I would arrive at work with all the other bleary-eyed people, my co-workers who didn't drink anything stronger than tea, envying their bright-eyed and bushy- tailed look attitude laughing good-naturedly at me.

One day I sit down at my workstation taking off my coat and my little friend who sat across from me on the conveyor belt, starting snickering. When I asked her what are you snickering about, I really miss that woman, she asks me if I was still getting dressed in the dark to which I replied to her question as a yes.

In peals of laughter, she told me that either A. I should purchase a red bra to go under my red top, or B. don't wear a top that's red with a white bra under it because you could see through it. Oh man, I thought, it's only morning and went and got my coat.

Being wacky is a big part of my personality. I love stories so if you have a wacky story, do tell.

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