I woke up this morning determined to have a good day. I ran, I did other exercises, and when I was done, I felt great. I even told John that. “I feel great,” I said.
The morning went by just fine. We looked at our options for getting to NC for my birthday. Did some work. We had a staff meeting that went okay. And when I went to give the weakest member of our team some helpful hints, I found out he had completely dropped the ball for five hours. Annoying, but not the end of the world. I helped him wade through the work. And then we had another meeting. That started more than half an hour late. And went more than an hour longer than scheduled. The meeting itself was okay (we got some stuff done), but it ended abruptly when our boss got a phone call on her cell, left the room to take it, and never came back. I could work where I was, so I did, and after about ten minutes John and Ross went to find out if she was coming back. She wasn’t. The meeting was over, apparently. And it was about 5:15. Because we’d been in there so long (the meeting was only supposed to go to 4), John had a lot of work to do, so we weren’t able to leave until almost seven. We vented about the idiot who dropped the ball and our boss on the way home. And we’ve decided we won’t talk about work again until Monday. Except for tomorrow, when we meet with Joe and fill him in on the gossip. But that’s it.
It doesn’t sound like a lot when I put it that way, but I’m leaving out all the frustrating, crazy-making details. It took a lot out of me.
John has a rum and coke, I have a glass of wine, and a pizza is on the way. Oh, this pizza. I hope it’s as good as it sounds. Tomato sauce, spinach, roasted garlic, artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, grilled chicken, mozzarella, romano, and feta (only on John’s half). Maybe this pizza will turn my day around at the last minute. It’s a large burden to place on a pizza, but I think it can handle it.