Our Beezer is a Horse in the school play “Gingerbread Man” today. I understand why and am so ashamed. In better news, The Beezer won the Gingerbread House at school raffle, so lovely. The bloody thing engulfs my grandmother’s coffee table (my cocktail table – big difference).
I wanted to do a pictoral of Beezer and her new home (couldn’t totally manage to scrunch 40 lbs of fun into the archeitecture) but she wouldn’t have it. Grr. Being a mother is hard.
Taken more time to be a parent this semester by reducing to one class (earned an easy ‘A’). By re-read my blog of the last year, much has happened: 1) Abusive boss was fired! Hurrah! 2) Not Hurrah! Consultant was hired! But, not a third as bad as former boss. This dude is just a consultant, making money off of picking poor workers brains. Unfortunately, he only wants to pick mine. I’ve received a lot of complaints in regime change from Finance. Yet, why should I care? I do not actually need to make a living from this humiliating place. 3) Gain share from the company store equal to almost one paycheck. Hurrah! 4) A friend points out as a mechanism to prevent raises. 5) May get my own office! Un-Hurrah, getting shit in the office smoke circles for allowing a division of power to happen. These Oddfellowes believe I care a rat’s ass for the organitization. How Odd! 6) May get on the ball and actually do something useful with my life – yeah! But – what the devil am I passionate about aside from writing (aside from my family)? Hmmmm…
