Work was fun today---there were only four of us in the entire store, as our coworkers wait for their Covid results. I worked mostly in the back room, far from the others, and wore a mask.
In fact, I changed it three times in six hours--it gets damp, which is bad.
We all commented that the mood is so much happier without Ass't Man around. It felt like old times, when we all pulled together happily. (Mostly.) I hadn't realized that all my coworkers see him as I do.
There's some risk being at the store, but it's acceptable to me.
If I get horribly sick, or die (eek), I'll be sorry.
But I don't see how I can make this work I care about much safer.
Even at its happiest, work is stressful.
The still-not-replaced broken windows, for instance, are a constant visible & visceral reminder of the state of the union, and our Very Bad "leaders".
I said that I didn't want to problem solve, and I don't, but when I came home from work, I made made this, with junk (not junk) from the store.
I had to cut the shark's fin to seat the china lady firmly.
Is it a self-portrait?
It really isn't.
But I am self-satisfied that I brought it into existence.
Meanwhile, the blog has been infected with a commenter.
(Not you, Penelope--if you're still reading! Now I know you're a well-meaning, real human.)
I don't want their comments to appear and annoy anyone before I get a chance to delete them, so for the first time ever, I'm enabling comment moderation.
Not a bad idea, I think.
I can delete comments from known bores––without even having to read them. At the same time, being alerted to comments will help me (I hope) reply to them as they come in, which I always mean to do.
My comment message reads:
On a related note, I wonder, do people check back for replies to the comments they leave on other blogs?
Do you?
I almost always do check back, when I comment on other blogs--unless I know the blogger doesn't reply unless you ask a direct question.
I only comment on a handful, so it's not hard to check back.
Now. What shall I watch on TV?
In fact, I changed it three times in six hours--it gets damp, which is bad.
We all commented that the mood is so much happier without Ass't Man around. It felt like old times, when we all pulled together happily. (Mostly.) I hadn't realized that all my coworkers see him as I do.
There's some risk being at the store, but it's acceptable to me.
If I get horribly sick, or die (eek), I'll be sorry.
But I don't see how I can make this work I care about much safer.
Even at its happiest, work is stressful.
The still-not-replaced broken windows, for instance, are a constant visible & visceral reminder of the state of the union, and our Very Bad "leaders".
❧ ❧ ❧
I had to cut the shark's fin to seat the china lady firmly.
It really isn't.
But I am self-satisfied that I brought it into existence.
Meanwhile, the blog has been infected with a commenter.
(Not you, Penelope--if you're still reading! Now I know you're a well-meaning, real human.)
I don't want their comments to appear and annoy anyone before I get a chance to delete them, so for the first time ever, I'm enabling comment moderation.
Not a bad idea, I think.
I can delete comments from known bores––without even having to read them. At the same time, being alerted to comments will help me (I hope) reply to them as they come in, which I always mean to do.
My comment message reads:
"I love comments! Comments are moderated, however, to block spam (and those with spam for brains)."
__________
On a related note, I wonder, do people check back for replies to the comments they leave on other blogs?
Do you?
I almost always do check back, when I comment on other blogs--unless I know the blogger doesn't reply unless you ask a direct question.
I only comment on a handful, so it's not hard to check back.
Now. What shall I watch on TV?
