Saturday, June 11, 2011

Recovery

I expected this past Monday to be a little awkward at the office. It was just fine. No mention of any problems with me going to part time. All week went well, actually. But as I was heading out the door Thursday, Doc blindsided me. Me and my co-worker we actually singing as we were hopping towards the back exit when he called me into his office. His tone was the one he uses when he is irritated. He started off by asking what my plans were for Friday (it was my Friday off). I shrugged with the answer of catching up on things around the house. He proceeded to blurt out that he was calling in someone to interview for full time and that he was not going to have one and a half assistants. I didn't have an answer if it was meant to be a question, so I just stood there. Then he asked if I was going to stick with my request for part time, which I confirmed. He waved me away and said that he was just making sure. I was standing at the back door when I finally figured out his cryptic message and peeked around the corner at him and asked if I was out of work. His only answer was that we would see come Monday. What was I supposed to do with that?

First thing I did was text my coworker with only the one 1/2 assistant message. Next I phoned Colt and relayed the conversation. He laughed and said I've now had my turn at employment fail. We had, thank goodness, considered the scenario of me being booted with my asking for less hours. We'll be fine, but I hoped for the realization to be less brutal. Understanding one's expendability sucks. My coworker was texting up a storm by the time I got home. It was mostly comic, but with the undertone of "what the heck?"

Needless to say, I spent Thursday night and on into Friday wallowing in self-pity. I was already on the edge of this from learning how much weight I've put on this year and how difficult it is to lose it. I've been lucky up till recently about what I eat and how little it impacted my figure. So the prospect of being a chunky, out-of-work bum left me in a bit of a blue funk.

My coworker sent a message later Friday that she defused Doc a bit and that the ad he put out was for a part time assistant. She said he was still uncertain about it, but that my job might be saved for the time being. Colt brought lunch home to me and did well in reminding me of what all I was wanting to do with more time to myself. I think it was the sheer disappointment of being dumped. I know we'll be fine. We were fine when he was out of work for so long a few years back. My check in nothing compared to his. It was more along the lines of me blurring the lines between business and friendship. When you work along side people for this long and see them everyday and get to know their families, it's easy to get caught up. It isn't the first time to happen, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I get attached. But now I'm in the irritated phase and I want to call him and see if he wants me to come in Monday or if I can sleep in. I don't really want to get up and ready and go in just to be sent back home.

I was hoping that my book would be closer to being released before my income was cut off. It is still with my editor and might be there awhile longer. He's been busy. Now I can only hope that it is all that it needs to be to support me while I write the sequel and other projects. No pressure.

In attempt to distract myself, I've been staying busy around the house. Still, I've accomplished little. Weird how that works. We went out for lunch and met Dillon at Wingstop. He put in his notice on Friday for two weeks since he is moving away. So he teased that they were begging him to stay and here I was getting shoved out. Such a booger. I did get to take a turn laughing at him. Apparently he had a spook last night while working on his Jeep. Colt explained that he was looking for something when he saw Dillon jump straight up into the air and bolt away. Dillon doesn't move fast so it had to have been a sight. It was dark, he had unknowingly stepped on a snake, couldn't figure out what was wiggling underfoot, and looked down in time to see it latch onto the side of his shoe. Thankfully it didn't actually get him, that would have ruined his night, but they both were quickly packing up and heading home after that. And he didn't squeal like a little girl. He's proud of that.

Earlier this morning I got a text from my mom, whom is on her way to NY, about something she did on her flight. She has always gotten onto Dillon and me when we snap pictures of interesting people we see and text them to one another. She tells us it is rude, which it is, and that we need to stop and be more respectful. Well, she said she sat next to a 'hooker' (her exact description) on the plane and had to get a picture of her. I can only imagine how this turned out. I know she doesn't have a camera on her phone because it is an OLD cell phone. (The kind that has three menu buttons and a key pad, that's all. The kind you could get for 99cents at Radio Shack about five years ago. The screen is doing good to show texts.) The only camera she could have had was either a disposable or the quirky one Dillon bought and abused for the past two years (raggedy and takes random pics when it rarely works.) I asked how it went, her ending reply was :-). She called me this afternoon just long enough to tell me that she can't wait to show me all the pictures she is taking and that she forgot her umbrella, then hung up while explaining that someone was coming to talk to her. She's up there with family so I know she is having a blast. They know how to have fun, and if it isn't already there, they create fun.

Now, I'm having dinner at my desk. I was already cooking when hubby came in to tell me he was heading out with the guys. Bow tie pasta with garlic sauce all to myself. I even had cinnamon rolls in the oven. Was going to eat and watch a movie with the kitties, but they are both snoring at the moment. So I'm rocking out to Thriving Ivory and Parachute while blogging. It happens.

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