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metaphorically, but not physically, treading water
June 28, 2006
Well, Papa has remained stable, and they moved him to a rehab facility yesterday. P is having a confab with all of the doctors tomorrow, to find out what happens next. And Spouse fought the fight with the courthouse, because Papa got a jury summons this week. Once the woman understood that Papa was A) 76, B) unable to read, and C) hospitalized, she set it up so he will be excused this time, and permanently in the future.
I haven't been complaining a lot about work lately, but that doesn't mean thing are going so great. I'm doing okay, but the workload is ridiculous, and getting worse all the time, and I really don't like most of what I'm doing. I'm pretty unhappy, but hell--it isn't like anyone there gives a shit anyway, so I just keep it to myself. And to be truthful, it's all such a gigantic bore that it isn't worth wasting the words on it.
I do like the chair massages, though. They had a new traveling masseuse in today, and I took the half-hour deluxe for thirty bucks. Well, thirty-five, with tip. But lawsy--did I need it. Felt great, and when I had to go have a chat with my boss afterward, I was as relaxed as they come. Loooose as a noodle!
I need to do some laundry tonight. And pick up a little around here. Wednesday evening is my midweek catch-up, to try and keep this place from going entirely to hell.
I don�t feel like it, and I should spend some time working on my mid-year review--but if I don�t get something done, I�ll be buried alive come the weekend.What I�d really like to do is swim, but I can already see that this is going to be the summer of 60-something degree weather and daily rain, simply because I have a pool now. It has rained for four days now, and I�m starting to get cranky about it, dammit.
Reading: "A Prayer for Owen Meany", by John Irving. And "That Girl From Boston", by Robert Rimmer. A trashy comic novel from the early 1960's, bawdy and full of free love and wild livin'. I've re-read it periodically since I was about 13, and my poor old paperback needs gentle handling.
Listening: CD, "The Best of C.W. McCall". Don't judge me--Bill Fries is a brilliant storyteller, and Wolf Creek Pass is sheer comic genius.
Beading: Niece's "Glinda" necklace.
One Year Ago, I was stretched mighty thin.
At Random: click here
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