Self-indulgent woes
Jan. 1st, 2012 01:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
resonantGuys, I'm sick. I feel like I've been sick for a million years. I had the entire week from Christmas to New Year's off, and I spent the whole time sick. The lymph glands on the right side of my neck are so swollen I can see them in the mirror, which, just, gross, all right. (Obviously I'm better or I wouldn't be able to complain this much, but better is not the same as well.)
I've committed to give a Twelfth Night party in my house next Saturday, which strictly speaking is Thirteenth Night, but I rescheduled it because the spouse had a conflict on Friday, only now he has a conflict on Saturday as well.
The following weekend I have to do the annual luncheon. My former liaison to the governing board, who was so infirm that she confined her participation to calling volunteers for me, has rotated off the board. My new one is young and vital and actually uses e-mail (yay), but she's weirdly slippery, and it's hard to get a grip on her preferences, even in answer to a question like, "So do you just want to call volunteers, too, or did you want a different division of labor?" Which means that I don't know whether I'm getting any help at all, or what shape it's going to take, or whether she's going to be unhappy because I laid a bunch of work on her or on the other hand unhappy because I won't let her do anything or make any decisions. And it's generally not helpful to call people up and yell, "I am very cooperative, damn you! Just watch me cooperate!"
Also the annual report. Don't even ask.
Also the kitten (did I mention we got a kitten? I suppose that should have been in a good news post, if I ever made any of those) is the most expensive free cat we ever got, and I still haven't paid off the Christmas bills.
Plus I was going to spend this week writing like crazy, and obviously I didn't do that because the only part of me that was active this week was my white blood cells.
So, you know. Woe is me.
I've committed to give a Twelfth Night party in my house next Saturday, which strictly speaking is Thirteenth Night, but I rescheduled it because the spouse had a conflict on Friday, only now he has a conflict on Saturday as well.
The following weekend I have to do the annual luncheon. My former liaison to the governing board, who was so infirm that she confined her participation to calling volunteers for me, has rotated off the board. My new one is young and vital and actually uses e-mail (yay), but she's weirdly slippery, and it's hard to get a grip on her preferences, even in answer to a question like, "So do you just want to call volunteers, too, or did you want a different division of labor?" Which means that I don't know whether I'm getting any help at all, or what shape it's going to take, or whether she's going to be unhappy because I laid a bunch of work on her or on the other hand unhappy because I won't let her do anything or make any decisions. And it's generally not helpful to call people up and yell, "I am very cooperative, damn you! Just watch me cooperate!"
Also the annual report. Don't even ask.
Also the kitten (did I mention we got a kitten? I suppose that should have been in a good news post, if I ever made any of those) is the most expensive free cat we ever got, and I still haven't paid off the Christmas bills.
Plus I was going to spend this week writing like crazy, and obviously I didn't do that because the only part of me that was active this week was my white blood cells.
So, you know. Woe is me.