Ahhh, Home at Last
The annual management conference is a lot like summer camp. You catch up with old friends, make new friends, sing songs and you're a little sad when its time to go home. After 3 days in the country with days filled with presentations and nights filled with drink and food, its good to be home where I can take off my shoes and my bra after 5 pm.
I walk on water with most of these guys. I had several gags that I brought out after dark and the drinking was well on its way. The first night I had the remote controlled fart machine. I laughed so hard my face hurt and I almost peed myself. It almost caused them to come to blows, they were all accusing each other and denying it was themselves. We played a card game called Fact or Crap. Night 2 brought out the air horn in a can and the fake tongue that can be blown up like a balloon.
I had to escort several drunks back to their rooms and was propositioned more times than I'd like to remember. I had to bitch slap one of my best friend for getting fresh with me in front of all the guys (I can't have any of them thinking its ok or that I'll allow it). Don't worry he knew the next morning that he deserved it and apologized. Both nights also consisted of a couple of them drunk dialing me on my cell phone and my room phone. Of course I heard that they also drunk dialed each other so I won't let that go to my head.
Its kind of a let down to go back to work. I have to try to figure out what I used to do before I was consumed with working on the conference.
In other news, Big Princess called yesterday to tell me she is overdrawn at the bank since she came home for Easter at $36/day. Yea! I told her I couldn't do anything about it until I reached civilization on Thursday. I chewed her ass and then told her it happens to everyone sooner or later but it better never happen again. Balance the freakin check book like I told you.
I called home today to find out that Money our Persian died this morning. She was like 14 years old and we knew it would be sooner than later. Big Daddy was crying on the phone and that freaked me out. My first thought when I heard him say "I have some bad news" and he's crying is that his dad died (or something worse that my mind can't even name). I'm ok with it. We had her since she was 3 months old and she lived a pampered life of priviledge. I should be so lucky in my next life.
posted by The Teller | 6:48 PM
5 Comments:
it's good to have you back in blogland ps. sounds like a whopping good time at the management conference.
I'm glad you had the experience of being freaked out by Big Daddy's tears on the phone.
Now why would you be glad I was freaked out. It was 30 seconds of pure terror. Was it his dad? The girls? I couldn't hardly bring myself to think the later.
Oh, PS, I'm sorry, I was thinking along the lines that you were freaked out by the show of emotion. I was insensitive, I'm sorry. Freaking out over the possible cause of the tears, that is terrible.
Please forgive me.
Well now that you explained it, it makes sense. I couldn't figure out where you were going with that first comment.
I pondered his emotions later. We have talked about this happening for sometime now. She was old. I think it was that fact that he had to deal with it alone was what freaked him out. I think he leans heavily on me in times of crisis to be the calming force.
I've only lost it once. I was pregnant with little princess and my uncle was dying of aids. I had cared for him for a couple of years but with my pregnancy and his decline I couldn't do it. The family came in to help and decided not to call me until it was too late for me to say good-bye. I was 8 months pregnant and had myself a little break down. Big Daddy had no clue what to do or how to help. Guess I should start preparing him...our parents can't live forever (nor can I).
Al and I had a miniature Schnauzer that I got for her when we moved to SC in 1988. She was nearly 17 when she began to get so bad that she couldn't function well and was really hard to care for. We'd heard from Al's aunt (who lives in Seguin) that they are known for leaving home to die, hers did. But ours had really never left the yard, though never tied, and was really too decrepit to go far.
Allison, in frustration and compassion, took her to the vet one day to have her put to sleep, and called me from the Vet's office to tell me. I couldn't take it. I cancelled students, drove to the Vet's office and rescued the senile, crippled, blind, deaf, canine family member.
She made it a few more months of meagre existance and when a house guest let her out to potty one afternoon while we were gone, she just kept hobbling, and we never saw her again. We looked everwhere, put up signs, made calls, checked the shelter regularly, she was gone. I decided to changer her name from Ellie, to Enoch, because she was taken up and was no more.
Post a Comment
<< Home