The icon circled in pink, below--that doesn't look like a magnifying glass until I magnified it--is what I accidentally clicked and discovered it magnifies things:
I secretly hope she does go (if she wants to)--and going alone would be more of an adventure--you meet people in a different way when you're a free agent--although I have no regrets that bink and I went together both times.
bink said, "It's not possible to be a bad pilgrim".
It's also not possible to do pilgrimage "wrong"--what happens, happens, though it might be more or less pleasant and comfortable.
Más o menos, as the Spaniards say.
If you're talking distance, it's always más (more) than you think.
If you're talking comfort, it's probably less (menos) than you hope.
But it's all pilgrimage.
BELOW: bink, me, Marz (in Crocs) at Finisterre, Spain, on the Atlantic Ocean
I'm
a little bit sick for the third day in a row. Sore throat, not feeling
too bad, but listless--I don't want to do anything. (Tested negative for
Covid, though it was an old at-home test.)
It would've been good to go to my job today and normalize it after Friday's staff meeting. [blah blah more of the same]
It'll feel a little weird until things smooth over, (by everyone ignoring them).
And so, feeling a little glum about work (only a little, but being sick doesn't help), I was extra pleased to get a text this afternoon from volunteer Art, with a photo of the third light shade he's hung in BOOK's---this one, a Tiffany lamp pattern on a broken umbrella.
Is Art aiming to make the place look like a bordello?
I don't care, I love that he takes practical steps to improve things.
I wrote right back that I loved it. Dragonflies!
Ass't Man and I had a funny rapprochement after the staff meeting last week. I ran into him by the dumpster and just couldn't stop myself, oh no I couldn't, from indulging in saying something snarky about the situation, knowing he would agree with me.
After we chatted a minute, he practically grabbed me in a hug --
"I'm just so glad you're talking to me again!" he said.
Okay, so I'm talking to him again I guess.
Nothing was resolved, but I tell ya, there's nothing like someone enthusiastically expressing affection for you to undermine your moral judgment/wounded pride/whatever.
Big Boss should try it, but he told me he doesn't see why people need praise.
No praises, no raises---great workplace policy.
I have written this a thousand times:
I just keep my head down as much as I can and look to the books & toys.
Books & toys!
What could be better?
I'll go to work tomorrow no matter how I feel, even if just for an hour, just so it doesn't seem I'm boycotting the place.
My voice sounds creaky, I hope it will tomrrow so I can go around and talk to everyone.
"See, I love youse guys so much, I have dragged myself from my sick bed to infect you!"
No, I'll wear a mask.
I mostly do at work because I am sensitive to the dust. I am sensitive to the dusty books and clothes because I am an animal that has lungs.
All the others are sensitive too, but they don't do or say anything about it.
I only started wearing one after Covid--wish I'd worn one all along.
That's my chit chat for the day. Stay well!
