WhiteTailedKite of Bluster
Mar. 5th, 2024 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoYesterday I did not post anything, because I was thinking I had hardly done anything and it just wasn't worthwhile. Later that evening, I recalled the stressful three-hour phone call. And then I remembered that before that, I had been up rather early to drive the Sparrowhawk to church to sit in the office and await the arrival of his money-counting friends, so I could arrive at the dermatologist's at 8:30 for my yearly appointment. So, okay, there was that . . . perhaps some excuse for being tired.
The dermatologist has quite a posh office where I could even get coffee if I had wanted any. Everyone behind the desk is very very pretty, and has very very nice skin. I would say they were all very very young, too, but I spotted a couple of older ones yesterday. They still had nice skin, though. The clientele is mostly nice-looking and svelte, and there are quite a few BMWs and Lexuses and large SUVs in the parking lot. I think they come to have their lovely skin smoothed and nourished, though they look glossy enough already to me. Then there's the other branch of the clientele--old crocks like me, who come to have their spots and bumps checked to make sure we aren't headed down the road to skin cancer perdition. Making us smooth and glossy is a lost cause, so they don't even bother marketing their other services to us. At least, not to me. Fortunately, my dermatologist seems like a genuinely nice guy. This is a great relief, given that he views the map of my dings and dents at uncomfortably close range. He said I was doing great, and burned a scabby place off the side of my nose. It felt kind of like being blasted with a space gun, and now I have a blister, but otherwise, no harm done.
As for today, I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. We were in the midst of a Zoom with friends when the Nipper texted to tell us that the Redhead had lost her job. It was her first job after she got her master's degree, and we were all so proud and happy about it. The kids had great hopes and plans. It's so crushing to be let go--especially from your first job in the area you strove to qualify for. They're all right for now, but there is worry . . . .
And then, the laughing part. The long-awaited edits arrived, for the ms. I completed LAST YEAR. Oh, how many weeks I have spent loitering about, thinking "Gee, this would be a good day to check the edits on my manuscript, IF I HAD A MANUSCRIPT OR ANY EDITS." So it finally arrives in the midst of a week when I'm already feeling rushed and overwhelmed with three or four other things. And the editor is eager to know how fast I can turn it around. It is ever thus. Oh well. I'll just meditate on the words "I know it will be a big hit with the fans! Congrats on writing an excellent story!" and " . . . your very fine novel . . . I loved it!" until I feel better. Oh, and I made brussels sprouts with bacon, basil, and thyme for dinner.
The dermatologist has quite a posh office where I could even get coffee if I had wanted any. Everyone behind the desk is very very pretty, and has very very nice skin. I would say they were all very very young, too, but I spotted a couple of older ones yesterday. They still had nice skin, though. The clientele is mostly nice-looking and svelte, and there are quite a few BMWs and Lexuses and large SUVs in the parking lot. I think they come to have their lovely skin smoothed and nourished, though they look glossy enough already to me. Then there's the other branch of the clientele--old crocks like me, who come to have their spots and bumps checked to make sure we aren't headed down the road to skin cancer perdition. Making us smooth and glossy is a lost cause, so they don't even bother marketing their other services to us. At least, not to me. Fortunately, my dermatologist seems like a genuinely nice guy. This is a great relief, given that he views the map of my dings and dents at uncomfortably close range. He said I was doing great, and burned a scabby place off the side of my nose. It felt kind of like being blasted with a space gun, and now I have a blister, but otherwise, no harm done.
As for today, I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. We were in the midst of a Zoom with friends when the Nipper texted to tell us that the Redhead had lost her job. It was her first job after she got her master's degree, and we were all so proud and happy about it. The kids had great hopes and plans. It's so crushing to be let go--especially from your first job in the area you strove to qualify for. They're all right for now, but there is worry . . . .
And then, the laughing part. The long-awaited edits arrived, for the ms. I completed LAST YEAR. Oh, how many weeks I have spent loitering about, thinking "Gee, this would be a good day to check the edits on my manuscript, IF I HAD A MANUSCRIPT OR ANY EDITS." So it finally arrives in the midst of a week when I'm already feeling rushed and overwhelmed with three or four other things. And the editor is eager to know how fast I can turn it around. It is ever thus. Oh well. I'll just meditate on the words "I know it will be a big hit with the fans! Congrats on writing an excellent story!" and " . . . your very fine novel . . . I loved it!" until I feel better. Oh, and I made brussels sprouts with bacon, basil, and thyme for dinner.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-06 01:28 pm (UTC)I'm sorry the Redhead lost her job.