"History Never Repeats"

Yesterday was pay day at the library. I've been receiving my pay through direct deposit lately, so I checked my account online ten times yesterday, but it was never deposited. I was a little worried because this morning the bank took $200 out of my checking account for my monthly car payment, and that cut my finances down considerably. This morning when I arrived at the library I looked through the check box thinking that the wonderful folks from the payroll department had inexplicably given me a regular check instead of depositing it for me. It wasn't there. Optimism be damned! The only explanation: for the second time they had forgotten to pay me. The PPLD payroll department is clearly incompetent. I've heard from multiple co-workers that they have had all kinds of errors on their paychecks in the last few months. One lady received 72 hours of pay when she only worked 40 hours, and another lady has been receiving a $170 per month insurance stipend for the past three months completely by mistake (too bad payroll can't make a mistake that benefits me). I talked to Dolores, my supervisor, about the fact that my paycheck was missing again, and her reaction startled me. She mouthed the word "crap," which is especially significant for a woman who never says anything that could be considered inappropriate by anyone, and she told me that she was very sorry and even offered to loan me some money to get me through the next few days. It was kind of her to offer, but I told her that I had enough saved to get me by. My plans for the weekend are screwed up now because I had wanted to do some Christmas shopping for my family. On Monday I'm going to have a nice confrontation with the payroll department . . .

In other news, my Dad's car has been in the shop all week since his accident. The insurance company was kind enough to pay for a rental car to get him through the week . . . but it appears to me their "kindness" was really an excuse to pull a rather sick joke: they gave him a cream-colored PT Cruiser. I feel ashamed every time I come home from class and see it parked in the driveway. He told me that the first day he had it, he passed a group of Japanese tourist walking on the side of the road near his office (funny how they show up in the strangest places), and they all stopped walking and pointed at the PT Cruiser and took pictures of it. The saddest part: my Dad thinks that the car is really cool looking.