Another Evening to Forget

Seventeen days ago, I told you about the joy of returning home to find our carpet decimated and Buddy attempting to digest the tiny pieces that Cleo had so successfully dislodged.

Since then, we have had new carpet installed. All should be well. It has been, in fact, until tonight...

But wait. Before I can tell you about tonight, let me tell you about my day at work.

Arrive. Get tea. Earl Grey. Work on an e-mail I should have sent yesterday. I craft e-mails; they need to be precise. Or else I spend twice as much time trying to follow up. Anyway, I have a meeting in which we discuss onboarding. A new type of torture implemented by my company. We're in the Darth Vader building after all. That's an hour. Painful. Next a status meeting. A project that's ready to deploy. Today, in fact. We were to deploy at 3:30. Fine, fine.

Pause

Continuing to craft the e-mail. And other stuff. E-mails fly at my inbox like rabid pigeons. I answer each volley. But like a hydra, the e-mails spawn more. This constant admin gives way to a strategy meeting. Cringing. Stomach in knots. Lunatic perceptions and darksome conclusions. I won't elaborate here. Not yet. It ends, thankfully, and I move to counter yet more e-mails with my vicious backhand.

Coughee with Tara. I vent.

Weekly status meeting with a client in OK City. He likes to talk. On to a status meeting for a project that boggles the mind and soul. Next I venture to the desk of our deployer - not to be confused with our destroyer - and ask how the deployment of the standardization pieces are coming. The standardization pieces had to come before the other projects that needed to be deployed today. The deployer and the developer responsible for the standardization pieces smile gleefully as they work through some 'small' items.

Another status meeting for another project for another client. Then more work for the client we love to hate. I return to the deployer. Not yet deployed. Impeding the progress of the other project deployments, I say. They know, they know. Another status meeting for another project for another client.

I return a third time. Problems. Problems? I ask. Problems. Damn, both sides of my brain exclaim. The standardization pieces are stuck in environmental limbo. And my other projects won't deploy. Great. Project managers don't look good when this kind of thing happens.

But I have to go. Tutor for an hour. Race to the bus. Sit on the bus. Tired. Walk home. Want to sit and eat and then blog and perhaps accomplish a few other things.

Walk in the door. Ah, the fragrance wafting from the dogs' room. The putrid smell emanating from Buddy's crate. Drag the crate outside. Spray the crate. Spray the dog. Cleo needs food. Feed her. Close Buddy in the garage. Bring him inside. Bathe him in the guest bath tub. Dry him off. He vomitousnesses all over the bathroom floor. Appetizing. He goes back into the garage. Towel the floor. Wash the towels. Clean the bathroom. Notice the overpowering smell is giving me a headache. Start lighting candles and opening windows. Not freezing but cold enough to start turning the hands and feet blue. Check on Buddy. Sick in dribblets in the garage. A little bleach'll do 'em good. Bleach 'em. No, not Buddy, the dribblets. Back inside. Have to take the garbage out. Might as well while I'm cleaning. Cleo surveys my progress; she approves. Walk into the garage preparing the trash. Buddy relieves himself just beyond the potty pads I've laid but not quite on my foot. Enjoyable. I recommend it. Open the garage door. Get the hose. Spray the chocolate colored waste out into the grass. Wrestle Buddy back into the garage where he sits obediently thinking that I'm going to spray him again. He shivers. I clean the crate. Cleo whines when I get back in. She thinks she's missing something exciting. I tell her to go away. Put the towels in the dryer. Shave. Yeah, weird, I know. But it was annoying me. Check on Buddy. Nothing bad. Prepare finances for tomorrow when our checks clear. Yes, weird, I know; we've established that. Check on Buddy. Seems okay. Lighter on his feet. Happier, I guess. I let him in.

He's sitting at my feet as I blog. Haven't eaten yet. Stomach's just about calmed down. And here comes Joseph home from his 6-10 Thursday evening class. I think I'll end here. And maybe eat...