Last night was a gong show. Seriously. I kept checking the moon to see if it was full but it wasn't. How else to explain the three drunken/crazy/suicidal teenagers who jumped in front of my moving haul truck in the middle of the night when I'm least expecting it? They were dancing or cavorting like the beasts in Where the Wild Things Are. Weird, but at least I didn't turn them into pancakes. Later I myself was nearly turned into a pancake when one of these:

tried passing me and had to swerve out of the way of another one of those so he cut me right off in the little cable reeler I was running. If I hadn'ta veered . . . Later he pulled over to offer what I thought would be a heartfelt apology but it turned out he really just wanted to explain why the whole situation was my fault. Me: No, I'm sticking to my guns on this one. You shouldn't have passed me. Him: Yeah but I'm much more important than you so you should have got out of the way. Me: So, I'm guessing you're not going to apologize.
And the reason I was in the cable reeler in the first place was because another coworker, who I will affectionately refer to as Ten Tons of Moron, hit a shovel cable with his backhoe bucket and shorted out the entire pit, meaning me and my buddy Robin had to fix everything up for him. And that's a whole process and comedy of errors which would take ten paragaphs to properly explain.
The frustrating thing was, if it wasn't for Ten Tons of Moron's screw-up (#36 of an ongoing series, btw) it would have been a pretty good shift. My Dad, who has worked out there at that mine since I was ten months old- 32 years- finally tendered his resignation so I wanted to go and visit him for a while on his last shift, but I never got a chance. But I know he understands- over the last couple of decades he's had to fix more than a few of TToM's mistakes himself.