That's not what the Death card means

Bitching Camaro
written 2018-02-09 10:48:26

Last week our project ended after a couple of months. I don't remember how long - maybe November to first week in February? I may be aggregating projects - and we spent the last month trying to convince these assholes they should probably terminate the project, but nooooo.

This was pretty good timing. Nothing was scheduled to start this week, so I could relax and do anything or nothing. Ingrid has work, and is set to leave town for a week to go to New Mexico. This means I get the house to myself for a week while she's at work, and the I get the house entirely to myself for a week. So relaxing!

Sure, this means I am the sole responsible party for Lennie the Hand-Biting Jerk Dog, but it's fine. A small price to pay.

Except, the placement agency called me about a new project. I must have been a little frustrated about them jamming up my laziness plans, because I sorta kinda responded to their offer letter with an honest and forthright appraisal of their abilities as work-finders and representatives. This normally would be the kind of thing that gets me blacklisted from that agency for a while, but they must be hard up for temps because I got a sickly-sweet conciliatory reply.

They had 110 seats to fill with butts, and I think they could only manage 60, so keeping me happy was suddenly important. Work starts next Monday, and I was able to wring a few more bucks per hour out of them. That's great, but still bad for my laziness plan.

And then Ingrid got sick.

I (and she!) don't know what she has. Aches, suggesting flu, but no fever. Cold symptoms. Her teeth hurt. She didn't eat for three days, then threw up the one thing she ate, then went another day before she could keep anything down.

The entire week. And while she's been sick, I haven't had any of the freedom of sloth I expected this week. I have been sitting in an adjacent room, faithfully waiting to see if she needs anything. That's my choice, I understand that, I coulda ditched her and gone to Bojangles or some shit. But it's just another hit against my... oh, shit, I just realized, I was anticipating a "stay-cation." Ugh. I am officially the worst.

And naturally, having missed a week of work and feeling frail after all this sickness, she's cancelling her trip to New Mexico. I don't blame her: travel sucks, and she has a weird reaction to traveling to 7000 feet elevation where she gets sick every single time she goes. So, it's double bad for her. Triple bad when you factor in the "having been sick" thing.

Let me establish that I am complaining about the woman I love and having work. The baseline here is that my basic needs are all being met. I am still a miserable bastard but that is just my irrationality. I should shut up and smile. But I was really planning on being left alone for a while and the opposite of that is now happening.

Postscript: I paid off one of my Sallie Mae loans using my federal tax refund and money I'd been saving. It was $4500 and change, at the highest interest rate I pay (6.8%) and should represent a good chunk of... oh, it was only 6% of my total student loan debt. Fuck.

--10:47 AM, EST, 2/9/2018, Philadelphia, PA, no one likes us, we don't care

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