If you know what's wrong with this picture, then you are not The Man.
Are you happy to see me, or do you just want my brownie?
Brownie. Yarn Bandit uses his persuasive skills as best he can
by being patient, cute, and good, but he doesn't get a brownie. Kirby is less relentless,
and eventually he just plain old gives up.
Watch the Juve game. They get a draw to the Flying Donkeys. How can you clobber Roma and then give up three goals to the Donkeys at home? One would think that years of rooting for teams that don't win would have prepared me for this, but it hasn't.
Monday
It is Day Six of Eighteen of the radiation treatment for Kirby's cancer. So far, no side effects.
His leg is shaved at the treatment site, and his belly is naturally bald. He is starting to view all this as part of his routine now.
Tuesday
Get a spanking at work. Am informed that I am not supposed to view it as a spanking. OK, then.
Also, new glasses:
They are pink. They are sparkly. They are Italian. They are progressive lenses. Dirtbunny is a six-year old middle-aged woman in crisis, so these glasses are perfect.
Wednesday
Is that what I think it is?
New yarn! Hooray!
Thursday
Crack wise with a buddy in the ladies' room about Tuesday's non-spanking. Am ratted out by third party who I now know is a rat. Get lecture from Bossboy about discretion and am reminded that non-spanking was not a spanking. Also get a further two-part lecture that can be summarized like this:
PART THE FIRST: when you close your office door (which I do for various reasons), it looks like you're sulking, so keep your door open more often, and
PART THE SECOND: Could you please try just a little harder not to be such a pain in the ass?
Have heard discretion lecture before, many times. I never learn from it. Have heard pain-in-the-ass lecture before too. When it comes from Daddy, it sounds like this:
"SIMMER DOWN!"
and it is enraging. Lecture over, with door open, ponder how to manage the keep-door-open-but-don't-be-a-pain-in-the-ass conundrum. It seems insoluble, since Bunny is now, and always has been, a pain in the ass and if Bossboy thinks so, and he loves her, then Bunny is in real trouble. Hmmmm. Set aside conundrum for another time and decide to measure blood sugar.
423
Hell no. That can't be right.
423
Take another measurement immediately:
397
Well, no wonder I'm all jittery and weird. Call doctor, who insists I come in right now for emergency appointment. No can do because of cancer dog and so forth. Compromise with doctor. Go get cancer dog, then get dropped off at doctor while The Man feeds The Boys and takes Yarn Bandit into the yard.
Spend three hours at doctor. Upshot: medications are not working very well. Plus, stress is bad.
Oh really? Stress isn't good for you? Funny. My psychiatrist, my therapist number one, my therapist number two, and my regular doctor never mentioned that before. Resolve to stop caring about the non-spanking, but stuck with cancer dog's cancer transportation for two more weeks, and still haven't solved open-door-pain-in-the-ass conundrum.
Go home, put on PJs, and watch first half of Liverpool-Chelsea Champions League match.
Friday
A work-at-home day. Cannot get blood sugar under 190 despite whole day of not eating carbs and drinking lots of water and exercising. Feel extremely sorry for myself.
Watch second half of Liverpool-Chelsea match. More misery. Complete last item on to-do list and cross it off:
So it was last week's list. So what.
Watch Barcelona-Bayern Munich match. Looks like Loooca will not have to make good on his promise to run naked through the Marienplatz.
Achieve major knitting milestone, but will not mention it on the blog until The Man notices.
Saturday
Sorting through morning pills and notice that have been taking double of one pill and zero of another pill for at least a week when I ran out and broke out a new bottle and hey they look pretty much the same so who can blame me? Two revelations:
ONE: Hey! I bet this is why my blood sugar is out of whack! It's because I'm an idiot, not because I am in the end stages of a chronic progressive disease!
TWO: Hey! This is the kind of mistake the elderly make right before their caretakers decide to get them a home health aide or put them in a home.
2 comments:
What kind of message is a dog communicating about your brownie with his tongue out?
"Simmer down!" young lady. Spankings at work are almost always the result of an HR idiot who read that ratings should not come to employees as a surprise. What this means is that meaningful feedback should be provided throughout the performance period. But this takes work and the HR idiot both does no work (he/she only creates work for others) and doesn't understand enough to do anything other than to tell managers they must warn people that their rating is slipping.
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