My husband is on to the fact that I've been bringing work home. I tried to keep it a secret, but he caught me before dinner last night. We had a brief, tense exchange of words where he basically reiterated his disapproval, and I established that while I was aware of and understood his feelings about the issue, it was my job - and I was doing what was needed to get it done in order to make sure I still have a job in the summer. He has a job that he walks away from every day at precisely five o'clock. I have a job where sometimes people ask me into meetings at 4:45 and I'm not walking out intil later in the evening, and from time to time eight hours is not enough to complete my daily assignments and take care of all of the little fires that pop up before they become infernos. This time of year is, in all honesty, the worst and most stressful time for this business. And it drives my husband nuts that sometimes I buy the break supplies, because I use them too and it's a nice gesture, regardless of whether or not it is noticed. (I'm not like some people: "Hey, boss, look! Look! I bought sugar! Praaaaise meeee!") I have a compatriot who picks up her boss' drycleaning, for cripes sake. It's apparently part of the "other duties as assigned" portion of her job description. And if the expectation is that I end up moving into the shark infested cubicles upstairs, the same could happen to me, too. I understand where he's coming from and why he's concerned, but the delivery could use a little work.
I weighed myself last night. I have lost five pounds since I weighed myself a couple months ago. I don't know how, since nothing has really changed. Is it stress? Hyperthyroid? Tapeworm? My husband is nagging me to see the doctor. But first he wants me to switch over to his doctor. Which requires paperwork, requesting records from my old doctor, calling the insurance company...so, where do I find this time? During my work day? I think not. Of course, he constantly gets on me about my weight and when I tell him that I seem to have lost a few pounds he doesn't have anything really positive or affirming to say. I guess maybe he's miffed that he's been trying to lose weight and it doesn't seem to be working. Whatever it is, the nagging about everything under the sun has got to stop or I'm going to start wearing a smoking jacket while I watch the game from my barkalounger grousing about how I need another martini and when the hell is dinner.
4 comments:
LOLLLLLLLLLL.
Congrats! Don't ask how, just keep plugging away! he prolly IS miffed, and don't over-analyze it. Sometimes you're so busy, you burn calories. its just as simple as that. I hope you find happiness there.
I do like your analogy though, I think we should totally do that one day, sit around in slippers. when D is 8 or so, he can bring us our martinis. hey, as my parents would say, what're kids for???
It says so much that I know what "Hagrid's niffler" refers to. And if I could buy you a niffler as a present I would...your niffler could have a playdate with my fizzgig.
And I don't know how I'm losing weight. I'm chugging Dr. Pepper and eating candy by the handfuls like an addict.
you don't havee a fizzgigee yet!!!
I love nifflers. they are one of my favorite of her invented magical creatures. they sound soooo sweet!
My husband brought me a giant bag of sour gummi candy last night. I think my dentist is giving the man kickbacks.
I don't really need a fizzgig - I'd actually really like for whoever borrowed (or was given) my Dark Crystal dvd to return it. I've narrowed the list of possible suspects, but I have a funny feeling that my movie is gone for good and it makes me grumpy. Especially if it was my husband who loaned it out (and I think it was...).
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