Chopping wood at minus 20 is really, really easy. The wood is frozen and therefore splits like butta. It makes you feel a lot stronger that you actually are. Sadly, these are the things that make me giddy. Frozen wood. (I said frozen wood.)
So I didn't get my green card yesterday. I did, however, get my work authorization card. The card won't allow me to leave the US but it will allow me to work. On the level, that is. Now I can invoice the people who owe me money from freelance jobs I completed this summer but who haven't paid me because, well, I wasn't authorized to accept it. Sweet. The card is very official. So much so that you really just have to laugh. It's splattered with 'Homeland Security' and 'United States of America.' It has my fingerprint on the front. It also has a picture of me on it. Now, let's get one thing straight. It takes a hard night of drinking for me to look bad. But, in this case, I hadn't had a drop of moonshine in some time and this photo, God in heaven, it's bad. I mean, it's really bad. I really, honestly look like a felon. The dude who did my fingerprinting took it. The camera was posed at a low angle and I have this smug look on my face that looks like I'm thinking 'Yeah, I just murdered someone. Whadya gonna do about it? Punk.'
I swear. It's awful. Even Sam, who tells me I'm beautiful first thing in morning before I've had my bucket of coffee, thought it was horrible. I was going to scan in the card so you could all see just how bad it is and have a good laugh, but I can't do it. It's that bad. I'm all for making fun of myself, but people, this is just too much. So instead, here's a picture that most resembles it.
I'm not kidding. Change the shirt and give him some tiny boobs and this is me.
Sigh. More trail work today. Also, we're working on the oil monitor because some idiot put gasoline in the fuel tank instead of diesel. Maybe I'll go chop some wood to make myself feel better.