Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

Today is Monday.

Well, geez. It’s been a long time since I had the initiative to write a full entry. I’ve been pretty content lately to stick to just the asides and pictures. For this, there are many reasons, but one in particular stands out: I started a new job.

Sort of.

Number one: it’s not new because it’s been about 2 weeks since I started. Number two: I’m still working with Jamie, but it’s just for another company he owns. I’m doing property maintenance on apartment buildings and commercial spaces. Somebody (Jacki) asked me how can I just know how to do the stuff that I’m doing without any training or formal schooling. I replied that it’s because I’m a man and men can fix things. I think I’ll leave it at that. Ladies, your comments?

Actually, I don’t really just know what I’m doing. In fact, most of the time I don’t. I don’t even really try to cover it up either. Some people probably think I should, but I just don’t have that option. It’s not because I’m ethical, have integrity or anything like that though, it’s a combination of two separate things. 1) I make mistakes so big they are literally impossible to cover up and 2) I just don’t care. As usual, I’m taking the whole “post-hypnotic Peter from Office Space” approach. An example that fits well into this model is from today. While trying to unclog a bathtub, I managed to rip out the drain, break the handle on the snake I was using, fling dirt all over the walls and get a clothes hanger stuck down a pipe.

Luckily, I didn’t have a work order for this job and the resident wasn’t home at the time all this happened; it’s like I was never there — minus the destruction, naturally.

I didn’t start out not caring. I tried to care the first week or so. It just didn’t work. It kind of stressed me out, so I just quit caring. About Monday last week was when I quit caring. I can actually pinpoint it. It’s when I was pressure washing a gutter when it was 40 degrees outside. There really was no possible way the day could’ve gotten any worse — short of a wolf attack. I don’t feel like talking about work anymore though; now, I want to talk about my weekend.

I had one of the best weekends.

Jacki and I hung out pretty much the whole time. On Friday night, we were going to go to the zoo to see it all lit up with Christmas lights, BUT because we are really big nerds, we ended up going to a bookstore instead. Actually, we decided it was too early to see Christmas lights; that’s definitely more of a post-Thanksgiving outing. I think everyone will agree with me on that. At least we didn’t wait until we were already in the zoo parking lot walking towards the gate to decide that we didn’t want to go. We had our priorities straight before we got there. …

The bookstore we went to was, put simply, beyond awesome. They had the best selection of books AND it was like a miniature maze. There were maps everywhere so people didn’t get lost. I read a book on Stanley Kubrick (go figure) while Jacki, I can only guess, fell asleep looking at travel books. After that, we went back to her apartment and watched some movies. We watched movies on Saturday too.

Or, actually, we “watched” movies on Saturday.

Jacki and I attempted to have a Jack Nicholson Marathon, but it didn’t go so well. We made it through Batman, but only watched half of As Good As It Gets. Then, we fell asleep for 5 hours while One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest played through twice. Needless to say, it was a productive evening. Also, I’m pretty sure both of us have narcolepsy. Like hardcore narcolepsy. Not the mild kind, either. We’re talking the Taco Bell fire sauce brand.

Saturday also had something interesting for me in it; I don’t really know if anyone else found it to be significant though. It was when everyone went out to eat at Outback Steakhouse. I thought it was kind of a big deal. It was important to me to have everyone there. Everyone. Mostly though, it was probably just the awesome steak I had that made it all so grand. On second thought, no. Mostly it was the other thing.

On Sunday, I had WAY too much ice cream cake. For those of you who don’t know, today is my “Pre-Birthday” (as Jason Rodriguez likes to say). My mom was born on the same day as me. Perhaps, though, it’s better to admit that I was born on the same day as my mom. Not the same year, of course (Can anyone say, “Messed up?”), but the same month and day. Unfortunately for me, the only people at our cake-eating party last night who knew we were celebrating my birthday in addition to my mom’s happened to be my immediate family (mom, dad, sisters, etc.). Most everyone else, including relatives, thought it was only my mom’s. That means I kind of got screwed in the present department. Also in the love department.

Sort of used to that one though.

That was my weekend though. My week will hopefully be pretty exciting. I’m thinking it will. You see, Thursday is Thanksgiving and I LOVE turkey. Especially my grandma’s. Sadly, this brings up a problem I have in my life. I judge how great something is by the quality of the food it provides.

Looks like I’d better try to find a girl who likes to cook, I guess.

Actually, looks like I don’t need to worry about finding a girl in the first place. I’ve already snagged a pretty swell one. (Even if she DOES have this unnatural thing against cats.)