So, I was off all last week -- I had hoped to swap a day or two out of that week and into the prior one, but an attempted redefinition of eligible vacation times at work has everything locked down worse than trench warfare while all parties, their agents, their attorneys and their agents' attorneys argue over just when, precisely, "and" may be construed as "or" as opposed to when both "or" and "and" are to be understood as meaning "is."
I only wish I was exaggerating. (This nonsense is so toxic that I avoid it as much as possible, even when I could probably do a little better for myself in the short-term by rollin' in the mud with the lot of 'em. Life's too short.)
The upshot was that I spent a week of the worst weather we've had in several years cooped up in the house and while it wasn't much of a vacation, it beat having to beg rides on the company 4WD and work 12-hour-plus days while worrying if the power was still on and the cats were all right at home while Tam was in Knoxville.
And now I'll be heading back to face whatever kind of mad improvisation got done while I was out, to the tune of fascinating (and possibly even true) stories that begin, "It's true! There I was, facing a wall of snow and frantic, sex-mad Yetis...."
I'm so sad to have missed it. Right?
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago