Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Tuesday, September 10
It’s been a fairly warm summer and tonight was the first night ol’ Sparrow was obliged to wear a jacket into work…I probably could have gotten away with my flannel shirt, but you never know, so I went to the closet for a brown jacket the ex actually bought for me when we were vacationing up here around the turn of the century…I liked it from the start and I did everything but wear a sign begging her to buy it for me, these being the days when women did things like this for me…As I recall, there was some initial resistance, but I kept prancing around in it and, eventually, she relented…It comes with a removable liner, too, that I haven’t used for a couple of years and, frankly, I am not entirely sure where it is.
One of my duties at the hotel is preparing registration cards (everyone) and key folders (reward club members) for incoming guests…For club members, you take a key folder and write down their level and point balance…Usually, I print the level (gold, club, what have you) but this morning I wrote them in cursive!!!
I am not making that up…I have no idea why, either…I mean, I’ve got a good life and am working hard to make my time serve me…I don’t need to go farting around with my personal penmanship to liven things up, but there I was, writing cursive like I knew what I was doing…The only problem is I print – a habit picked up in the Navy, where logs must be printed – my handwriting is almost illegible, and I had to take it slow to ensure it was readable, which felt odd, but I was committed.
I might do it again tomorrow.
Again, for the second straight Tuesday, I overslept…I woke up on my own about 1730, and I was hoping to get a regular workout in but then I realized there was a meeting of our small town’s Legion post and Legion Sons squadron at 2000 I should probably go to so I made some coffee and farted around while my pre-workout supplement kicked in and made it into the gym about 1815 or so…This doesn’t really give you time enuff for a full workout, which takes a bit more than an hour, so I did one of patented Sparrow Quick Workouts, which is one exercise per body part instead of two…It’s an OK workout, too…You still a set in at max weight, which is always good, but you don’t get two in for each body part but, as we like to say, the only bad workout is the one you don’t do.
This was the first Legion and Legion Sons meeting in many decades without our old friend Bob H…There were seven of us there, but Tim and I are only Sons members, so really there were only five post members there, which is about 12 percent of the total members, a bit low, honestly…There were two other Sons members there, too, members of both organizations, giving the squadron four members present, a full one-third of our membership.
There was more discussion than there probably needed to be about cleaning out the burger trailer…It won’t be used again till spring and evidently it needs some work…Vents, the grill, and other things that regular readers of this crap know goes right over my head…There was also discussion, for the second straight month, about someone getting the combination to the lock the town keeps on the dumpster that’s in our lot…
Post Commander John runs a pretty good meeting and does a really good job of letting his adjutant, Steve, do his work, but we could use a printed agenda for these meetings…It would keep things moving and, with some assertion on his part, would keep idle chatter to a minimum.
It will be a busy week for Legion meetings…Thursday is the post meeting in town and Saturday is the district meeting and it’s off over the mountain, a good 90 minutes from here.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0930 Tuesday until 1730 Tuesday…8.0 hours for the day and a not-too-bad 21.0 hours for the week…As is usually the case on Tuesday, I took some Zzzz-Sleep because I didn’t want to fart around getting to sleep.
The Diary of a Nobody is a novel. All elements are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Anything else is a coincidence.
It was inspired by the 19th century British novel of the same name.
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