I've been really sick. I can barely type. Some kind of nasty intestinal flu bug that had me off my feet for five days. Until just now I hadn't left my room since last Wednesday I think. I'm still not well, just wanted to check in with you, figure out how to pay some big scary bills, pick up Spirit, (our black standard poodle), who had to have emergency intestinal and stomach surgery because he ate his new dog bed, ($2,800.00), somehow return almost all of the Christmas presents I gave to my Mother, who returned them to me because she said she would rather I not spend the money, and then do some emergency monitoring of my eBay mess.
I'm grouchy too. I'm pissed off at the people who work for me, who I can see don't really do their jobs when I'm not monitoring things, to make sure they get done well, sigh. Like my little office rats, for example; I ask Esther and Irma, (they alternate a bit, sometimes they work at the same time if Esther is really needful of money and we have a project that needs doing), every single day if all of the animals have enough food and water and if their cages are clean. I just came in here and little Pinky, my naked rat, didn't have a spec of food or single drop of water. This kind of thing makes me realllly angry. I have trouble getting angry for myself, when I'm being neglected, but when the animals aren't being cared for, because I'm too sick to make sure, I get enraged.
I love Esther, she's been working for us for ten years. She's like a sister to me. I treat her kids like family, well, they are family to me. We're super close. But sometimes I feel like she takes advantage of that. Ever since Hugo, (I wish I had the energy to link you to earlier entries, when Hugo was behaving like his former raging alcoholic self, because, well, the things he did were just so outrageous they just might make a roomful of grizzly hardened AAers gasp), swapped a bottomless cup of charismatic religion for the bottle, his family has been kind of dragged along with him on these endless retreats and religious sing-alongs, and these things happen at night and on weekends which is when Esther elected to work. If she wanted to work during the week I could hire someone to work on the weekends but she likes things the way they are, with her popping in and out when she needs the work, and rescheduling her weekend days and nights at will.
I've done everything I can to accommodate her. Where she used to spend the night and I could go out with Scott or even, gasp, spend the night at his house once in a while, now she goes out and I stay home. Anyway this last weekend was a big pain because Esther wanted Saturday off so she switched days with Irma and then came in Sunday with the flu. God this must be boring to read, I don't even know why I'm going in to it here...
There's a weird wind moaning about the windows this morning. I'm normally afraid of wind, while my man Scott loves it. But today, despite the scary, broody, Jane-Austen's-dark-windswept-English-moo
I have a big batch of holiday cards that I'm just sending out today. I wasn't able to get them out before, but I want to make food, (bwa ha ha ha, I said food), umm, that would be the word good, on my promise to send cards to everyone who sent one to me. I've just had a few setbacks and it's happening slowly. Thanks so much to everyone who sent me a card, and thanks to anyone who even considered it. I love you guys : )
Man am I grouchy. Poor Scott had the bad luck of calling me from work, when he never even called me once yesterday to check in on me, selfish fucker, okay well, he called me really really late at night, when I was sleeping, and it would have been totally painful to have to uncurl myself from whatever position I had finally been able to find some measure of peace in, to answer the phone. I'm thinking seriously about editing the words selfish fucker out of that last sentence, because I love my Scott, and he was wonderful to me the day before, but there's a kind of funny ring to them so... I'll leave them.
I can't believe how sick I am, how hard it is to write, back to bed, damnit...