Returning to the grind after another fine weekend, during the day sometime I’ll hear at least one variation of the following popular workplace phrase: “Monday! Argh!” (or, a couple days later, “Friday: WHERE ARE YOU?”). I mean, my work is no battle arena of death, but weekends are — y’know, kind of nice. Monday takes that away.
However, I think there’s at least one day of the week that’s more of a pain than Monday; I like to call it “Tuesday.”
On a typical Monday, going to work is not quite the greatest thing in the world (unless it’s a holiday! Hooray!), but there’s still at least little glow left over from the previous evening and two days. By Tuesday, as much doubt that was cast on Monday’s appearance, any weekend luminescence has been replaced with a big pile of tasks being accomplished by a brain with three (and possibly four) nights of poor sleep catching up.
Anyway, now that the big introduction is done, permit me to get to the real meat of this sandwich: complaining about stuff that happened on Tuesday
- Driving in Ann Arbor: I have six days to get the van’s title in registration in my name before I’m cruising sans assurance auto. Alright — just need to head over to the police station embedded in the middle of town to get something checked out. Not quite like a ride in the country, since Ann Arbor is home to quite a few hippies and school folk who sometimes leap out in front of moving vehicles in the name of arrogance, politics, and the scientific method. Additionally, when you’re trying to not run over hippies and school folk, the discerning driver has to watch out for the relentless alternating one-way streets. Ann Arbor roads aren’t a hassle if a person just needs to get across Ann Arbor, but when you’re trying to reach a particular destination (on the Northern side especially), pathfinding can easily involve revolving around a block or two just to figure out how the heck to get on the right damn street. And then, when you get there…
- Parking meters at the police station/city hall: Having meters in a lot for a civil service building is fairly insulting. I mean, this is Ann Arbor: city tax is no nickle-and-dime affair here — and yet city government still wants to make another fifty bucks a day from people parking in front of their building, a building the supplies unique and essential services to the city. [Cops eating donuts joke]. At least the meters took nickels — let’s see how my four minutes were used…
- Places that don’t take credit or checks: What the hell is this? Seriously: last week, I was informed by Paul that McDonald’s takes credit cards now, but at the police station — again, unique and essential services to the city — cash only, no have smart machines here, thank you. Grr — fine. Ahh, the kind officer behind the desk directs me to the ATM just outside the door! Let me just draw a few dollars and then-
- Police stations that don’t split “large” bills — like $20: Yes, we’re into crazy-ridiculous by now. $20 was the lowest denomination in the machine, too. A most clever ploy — somehow, somewhere. Also: a homicide waiting to happen.
- Good ideas that good sour: By this point, I’ve wasted a good half-hour of the night simply trying to get close to getting the car checked out to no avail, and my thoughts are turning to disaster recovery: what would be a quick fix to perk the night up a bit, just until I get home where I can cry and slash at the walls with a big knife? Perhaps Zingerman’s Deli and snackhouse a couple blocks away, home to fine treats and helpful cashiers! Indeed! See above: Driving in Ann Arbor, with the one-way streets and city block revolutions and stuff. See also: Kerrytown parking – none.
So that was Tuesday. Tuesday night has been, thankfully, much better: a good meal and something new and fantastic to watch can go a long way — but still not long enough to last through Wednesday.
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