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little birds

Challenging days for chickie lately: a bit of a perfect storm of cold, teething and shots. Kept her home yesterday because the daycare caught her out with a wee fever; the trouble was, she'd just been at the doctor's getting checked out (she's fine, just this meaningless cough that hangs around forever), and then getting some shots. Of course the daycare gives you this form so you can go back to the doctor and get a signature under the suggestion that it's all down to the shots -- which would only take half a day's worth running around. Better just to keep her at home, and keep it low key. The drool from the teething is rather ridiculous anyway; yesterday saw two baths and at least four soaking shirts, these slick little pools scattered at random around the house, like it's been raining inside.

* * * * *

Found this at my desk this morning. It's from the printer we deal with. I had three reactions:
a) My coworker is *not* doing all the work. In fact, I'd be amazed if he was doing *any* work (or active thought); his prime directive is simply to eat as much pie as humanly possible, and then talk about how good it is, with his mouth full.

b) My sense of responsibility is nowhere -- obviously. I like to think of it as a little sailing ship, drifting, devoid of crew, lost at sea. Anyone who knows me knows at least *that*.

c) Printers are pricks, with all the sensibilities of a soccer hooligan running a nunnery; no wonder I tell everyone that all the fuck-ups are their fault.

* * * * *

And then this arrived in my mailbox yesterday, looking glum but still charming: a little painting from my blogging friend Krista B, who recently fled the Kingston nest for the wilds of BC. Thank you, Krista -- it has a good spot on my desk even as I type this.

Comments

  1. love the analogy of your responsibility. mind if i take that thought over into my world? i think i would find it very comforting to release mine into that little boat.

    ReplyDelete
  2. love that first print, and poor baby. Both of you, all of you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. your printer communicates with you. Mine just pretends I don't exist

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  4. Anonymous6:26 am

    Banks are just like printers with a capital *P*...they should be called Pranks! Hope Oona feels better soon. Happy weekend.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I'm glad my mail arrived, I have faith in the postal service once again. Happy 'ween!

    ReplyDelete

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