The trip home tonight was full of interesting.
First, I almost got a cockpit full of black bird, but it pulled a last-minute Top Gun maneuver before it ended up flying through my open window.
Second, a bunch of Mexicans in a beat-to-shit 80's Honda Civic almost ran me over as they screamed around a blind corner in the parking lot of my apartment complex. Thanks, guys.
Third, the elevator smelled like warm fish...and old socks.
Work was uneventful. This morning a project manager and I were supposed to drop off some VoIP phones and leave, because it was a donation to a museum and all we provided were the phones. Someone else provided the router and switch, and another party was doing the equipment programming. There was nothing we could do. Except, for some reason, instead of dropping off the equipment and leaving like the PM both verbally told me and wrote in an e-mail, we hung around for two hours doing nothing. I can't stand more than sitting around being useless.
Second work order of the day was in and out. I found out a weird thing about the Salt River Pima reservation: they don't have street addresses. They just don't exist. The fact that I went to "2607 Country Club Rd." was an anomaly only Google Maps was aware of. In order to get mail, some kind of certified carrier has to bring it in from the post office. Some kind of business like that.
Weird.
First, I almost got a cockpit full of black bird, but it pulled a last-minute Top Gun maneuver before it ended up flying through my open window.
Second, a bunch of Mexicans in a beat-to-shit 80's Honda Civic almost ran me over as they screamed around a blind corner in the parking lot of my apartment complex. Thanks, guys.
Third, the elevator smelled like warm fish...and old socks.
Work was uneventful. This morning a project manager and I were supposed to drop off some VoIP phones and leave, because it was a donation to a museum and all we provided were the phones. Someone else provided the router and switch, and another party was doing the equipment programming. There was nothing we could do. Except, for some reason, instead of dropping off the equipment and leaving like the PM both verbally told me and wrote in an e-mail, we hung around for two hours doing nothing. I can't stand more than sitting around being useless.
Second work order of the day was in and out. I found out a weird thing about the Salt River Pima reservation: they don't have street addresses. They just don't exist. The fact that I went to "2607 Country Club Rd." was an anomaly only Google Maps was aware of. In order to get mail, some kind of certified carrier has to bring it in from the post office. Some kind of business like that.
Weird.