this morning #2061.

this morning, i flipped on the switch & a sheen of oil coating the concrete floor under the failing machine shot off sparkles from the lights hanging high up above. aesthetically pleasing. pathetically ominous. even more reflections split the air as i knelt down & shone a flashlight into the space between the floor & the machine. searching for the source of the slick. i’ve had enough of this hunk of junk. this is what i get. i didn’t do my due diligence & now i’m stuck with this tricky bitch that keeps breaking down. huh. well fuck. found where the oil’s coming from. that’s a main line right there. not at all ideal. that’s it. once my crew gets here, we’re going to fix this shit. once & for all. this crappy contraption will not get the best of me.