C'est Le Weekend: Socialite of the Year

My colleague came by yesterday, after lots of hustle, bustle and fighting in the house all morning.

It was good seeing her, but she reiterated the fact that I should perhaps move on to another position.

She doesn't get the animosity either:  I am (apparently) well-liked by both colleagues and students.

Only management seems to hate my living guts.

When she left after 3 hours, I bawled my eyes out.

It's a sad and humiliating affair.

 

 

Nonetheless.

My head is high (and mighty) today.

There is no way out but through this muck and gore.

Buck up, Self.

It will all work out in the end.

 

I had a birthday party on Friday night at my friend Karen's house.

It was good.
The coming week has me seeing friends every day.

This is better than work.

There are hospital visits to test Son#2's eyes and for myself to see the new internal medicine man.

And I'd like to go back to my GP to ask her what I should do in terms of work.

 

But back to now, on Sunday morning.

The boys - and therefore, I - got up at 5h25.

There has already been many a fight.

We sleep too little and this adversely affects our moods and tempers.

Same old, same old.

I'm hoping we'll all still be alive at the end of the day.

 

 

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