Platypus to Chimpanzee

You know, maybe dreaming about platypuses (I looked it up: it's platypuses, not platypii like I thought), and about chimpanzees who are really orangutans is an omen of some sort. I'm going to believe so, at least. Because about an hour after I had that dream, and a half hour after I posted about it, one of the worst mornings of my life began. And after that? One of the best afternoons of my life began.

You see, when I posted this morning, I hadn't yet looked in the mirror. When I did, I got a huge surprise. Bed head. Major major bed head in the worst form possible. Not sexy "oh my goodness I look a bit rumpled this fine morning" bed head, but "holy man there is no way I can successfully flatten this mess out before I have to leave for work" bed head.
Well, I did eventually succeed at taming a particularly cheeky lock that felt the need to sproing out despite numerous brushings, straightenings, curlings, and gelings. A pint of hair spray finally did the trick (note to self: try the hairspray first).

But that's just the superficial part of my morning. The emotional part was when I dashed out to the garage, already slightly late for work, to find that the Oldsmobile was gone. Oh. Okay. Well I'll just take the van, then.
Grab key from drawer in kitchen, jump over dog, fling open door to other garage.
Van's gone too.
Ready? Here comes the emotional part. My family had evidently forgotten that I worked at 10 a.m., and had gone off to play volleyball and go for a run respectively. That's right; vehicles are needed to go running now. It's the new thing.

(Sorry if I'm sounding bitter here. In all honesty, it was probably my fault; maybe I wasn't clear when I said what time I worked. I'm simply trying to convey this morning's state of mind.)

Pure panic. Dialing numbers, pacing back and forth between windows, muttering, wailing, crying...
I called work as soon as I realized my predicament, and when I spoke to the LOD she sounded kind of annoyed, which freaked me out even more. Was this going to be the straw to break the camel's back? I was getting fired. Shoot.

It all turned out okay in the end, don't worry. Mom got home fairly quickly, and I managed to be only five minutes or so late for work. Also, I apologized in person to the LOD and she was totally cool about it. Said that it happens to everyone, and that she's not worried about me and knows that it won't happen again.

That was the platypus part of my day.
Here comes the chimpanzee:

This afternoon was one of the best working days I've ever had. After the initial carless drama was over, I truly began to enjoy myself. A lot of help was needed cashiering, so I was constantly running up there to back up. I like cashiering, too. I like being face-to-face with guests in that way, and I like being able to stand still for a few minutes, and I like seeing all the strange things people buy. I also like that time flies when I'm cashiering.

Besides cashiering, the other duty that took up most of my work afternoon was covering Kyle's breaks back in electronics. I think we were both kind of surprised that I was the one covering; I have very limited experience in electronics, and don't know anything besides the basic "sure I can unlock that game case for you, sir."
Despite said lack of experience, I actually came to enjoy working back there. Electronics is its own little world in a way. If I really wanted to be metaphorical, I might say that the prow of the boat pushes against, but doesn't quite puncture, the bubble of the rest of the store. Waves break over cameras and high definition TVs, and dolphins leap across the surface at the flashing of lights from the Wii display. -end metaphor-

Anyway, what really made my afternoon over in electronics was this elderly man who came over wanting some help finding the correct ink cartridges for his printer. He flagged me down (I was over by the DVDs) by actually getting up out of his power chair and walking over: "Miss? Can I get some help over here?"
He handed me a splattered plastic baggie. Inside were the two cartridges he wanted replaced. Unfortunately, one of them was so covered in splotches of blue ink that I couldn't' read the number on it.
Well, I did the best I could, and managed, through some clumsy deduction, to find the correct package of ink for his printer. Kyle arrived at just the right moment (I think I might have actually let slip a "thank goodness") to confirm that I was right about the numbers.
And do you know what that old man did then? He stuck out his hand, shook mine (I saw Kyle grin from off to the side), and told me that he was one of the original Target employees; he had worked at the very first Target (in Roseville) back in the 1960's. He said that he had hired a lot of people in his time, and that I was one of the good ones.

That, my friends, is what turned my day from a flesh-eating platypus into a best friend chimpanzee/orangutan.