The Universe Might Be Trying to Kill Me

“The man who doesn’t relax and hoot a few hoots voluntarily, now and then, is in great danger of hooting hoots and standing on his head for the edification of the pathologist and trained nurse, a little later on.”
~ Elbert Hubbard

Oh, C..  Your continued faith in me, contrary to all evidence and experience, is so cute!
Oh, C.. Your continued faith in me, contrary to all evidence and experience, is so cute!

I knew, in my heart of hearts, that when we finally got a front desk officer back in the seat my workload would balance out.  I believed it with my whole soul.  The rack couldn’t tear this truth from me, I’d have gone to the bonfires with it.

The universe, it seemed, let me wallow in this conviction.  And laughed and laughed.

Eighty background checks in three days, annual supervisor interview where I was told that if I were staying they would probably review my job description to see if I qualified for a raise (gee…thanks…), having a Rape and Aggression Defense metal training helmet fall on me in the supply room bursting a vein in my hand and wrist, student uniforms by the metric ton, and I came home to find a chunk of the lawn in front of our apartment complex dug out without explanation.  Which is never anything but ominous.

I also found out about a few of the plans to replace me and the main one… Well, I have some major reservations, let’s put it that way.  And not the this-job-was-my-life-for-years-and-someone-new-is-taking-my-baby reservations (as I’m sure I need not tell you that I’m grateful for what I’ve learned here, but I am more than ready to move on), honest to goodness I-don’t-think-the-person-they’ve-picked-can-do-it reservations.  The next few weeks and months are going to be interesting.  And stressful.

Spare me, Universe, until April.  That’s all I ask.*

*(Which is of course a bald lie.  Spare me until April, let us move to the East Coast for the summer, allow me to find a menial evening job that allows me to concentrate fully on freelancing and the MP, let us sell the car for decent money, let J. get the awesome summer internship, let us get to London without further incident, and don’t let our flat collapse around our ears in the meantime is all I ask.  Not much, really.  Hardly anything.)

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