I am about to commit the cardinal journaling sin of being pissed at one’s workplace and documenting it. Will it help if I email my entry to myself to post tonight? Doubt it.

So.

Meeting in Sac today; no big deal. I was on the road and on my way when the mother of California storms came crashing down upon me. It was no hurricane, sure, but when visibility all of a sudden drops to ten yards with the wipers on high and idiot drivers fail to slow down, things become unsafe rather quickly.

I picked a truck and followed him slowly, because I couldn’t see smaller vehicles. And I pulled off at the next exit, which is where I fuel up anyway.

And of course, I picked the pump that wasn’t working and had to try twice and then run in to bitch at the cashier for not putting a sign on it, while fending off a sideways downpour. A sidepour, I guess.

When I (finally) got done with that and drove back to get on the highway, I suddenly felt awfully good about merely being wet and pissed. I could see the road from the overpass, and it wasn’t moving.

In fact, it looked just exactly like I’d narrowly missed being in a big ol’ wreck, because I could see it from there and lights and sirens were on their way.

I said to hell with that and turned around and headed for home. New guy checked on the internet for me and said yep, the highway was closed one exit north of me, and the storm was getting uglier.

I called the boss to let him know that there was no way I was going to make it to the meeting. And he had the nerve to give me shit for it! Like a meet-n-greet with some big shots that I will never deal with is worth risking life (and truck) for? I think not! I threw the safety issue in their faces, because that’s the corporate ace in the hole for us lowly types. We’d best not pull that card out often, but it sure as hell shuts them up when we do flash it.

I’m soaked to the skin from the knees down, which is sort of a feat in boots, but at least I’m in my own office and not stuck in traffic or upside down or something.