But nothing is resolved. Tune in tomorrow. Or not, it ain't like there's any knitting content here lately.
Nothing is resolved because Jefe and I were on a long conference call and HR Guy made a hasty and early retreat before Jefe could talk to him about me and other issues. It's the other issues that may be the dealbreaker - if the other issues don't work out, I just don't see Jefe sticking around too long. He is not asking for the moon, just for the basics to do what we need to do, and if they don't get it, what can you do? He also gets 2 headhunter calls a day lately. He doesn't need the ulcers and insomnia. And I have no reason to stick around if he leaves, because he Gets It and I am not sure anyone else really does.
So on and on we go.
Oh, and how much do I LOVE Cousin C? She had a fix-up date over the weekend. She's 64 and still Ann-Margret-ish. The guy is 80. But has a boat. I hooted in a very unladylike way when she told me, and she said, "Yeah, I know, but what the hell, it's just lunch."
Her assessment in email this morning: 'I really had a lovely time on my date. He is very sweet and a real Southern Gentleman. And can also walk unassisted."
I'm telling you, Rizzo from Grease, post-menopause.
But the punchline, or the True Horror Story, came courtesy of my mother, who talks to C regularly. C made the mistake of telling her she was having lunch with a fix-up from the yacht club. Note, not some guy she picked up at a gas station, but a mutual friend from the goddamn Yacht Club. And yes, this really IS a yacht club, not a boat dock. Not that this means there are no freaks there, but did I mention he's EIGHTY?
My mother: "You can't get into a car with a strange man!"
C is 64 and the potential rapist-murderer is 80. C was like, "If he's a freak I'm pretty sure I can kick his butt, but we are only going to LUNCH in a public place."
Every now and then, after a normal-sane conversation with my mother, I think, "Oh, how bad could it be, she could live with me!" Yeah, she's nuts, but she's harmless. How bad could it be?
No. I just can't. Seriously. Can't you see her calling the cops on me if I stay out past 9?
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3 comments:
C,
Please contact me before moving in with Mom.
If one of us had not called my grandmother by 7 p.m. we would get home to hear this message on our machine. "Well, I kept telling myself that if your mother had been killed on her way to work this morning, surely one of you would have let me know. I just can't imagine any other reason you aren't home at this hour, except that one of you is in the hospital."
There's nothing you can do but laugh.
Sue - no worries there. My kids would have me commtted. Carlarey - You laugh because the alternative is anger. That is controlling behavior to the Nth degree.
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