I've been so busy this afternoon, I wasn't sure I'd be able to write anything here today, and I do love my Friday wrap-ups.

My mother in law took a fall yesterday when she went out to get her mail, breaking her wrist and severely bruising her ribs. Their mail is delivered by a carrier who just drives around putting mail into boxes that are out by the curbs; he never even has to get out of his truck. Dan wants me to ask their postmaster in San Diego if their carrier can drop their mail by their door instead. Somehow, I suspect I'm going to get a polite no.

So what does my father in law do to make this situation better? He keeps yelling at her for hurting herself, as though she did this to deliberately screw up HIS life! I'll tell you, if Dan ever starts treating me that way, I'm going to toss a socket-connected toaster into his bath! I will NEVER put up with such treatment.

Betty sat with me again today. I think she's just trying to understand what I do so she can do it if it needs doing when I'm not here. Whatever. I need time off. I think I'll take a week in the spring, all by myself, and do something crazy. What? you ask. Well, a bunch of SUPERNATURAL fans went to Vancouver where an episode of the show was being filmed, met Jensen and Jared, spoke with them, took photos with them and got all kinds of spoilers about an upcoming episode! Damn, I wish I'd been with them! They sent along a couple of photos of themselves posing with Jen and Jar, and they are so cute! I would so love to jump their young bones and hump the hell out of them. Bad Robin! Tell your horny id to go back to sleep!

Nancy is in a real funk today. Her husband verbally abuses her the way my mother used to abuse me--make her feel like a penny waiting for change, you know? Bad shit, and I know only too well how awful she's feeling. They may have to return to Buffalo right away (where Nancy does NOT want to go, but Chris does), forego the cruise, sell their house here at a huge loss, force their now-elderly dogs through another move--no wonder Nancy is depressed. I held her hand and assured her that everything would work out for the best, it usually does. Problem is, for Nancy, it often DOES NOT. She is nearly as luckless as Dan and I are. I really hope she gets to take the cruise, mostly because she needs it. Whether or not Chris will abuse her onboard the ship the way he abuses her on dry land remains to be seen, but she was talking separation today. I asked her how she, a party gal, ended up with Chris, a workaholic who never wants to have fun. "We both came from bad family backgrounds," she replied. I said that was one negative reason for getting together; what were the positive ones? I know they both love animals, but what else?

She really couldn't answer me. He makes her work-work-work at home like he does, the only entertainment TV watching. She hasn't even been to a movie in years. I suggested she and I go to a movie, but she seems to think that will anger her husband.

I'm beginning to wonder about her husband, who seems so nice in person, but is apparently a prick in private. I fear for Nancy's already-fragile mind.

I'm glad it's the weekend, and SO glad I'm married to Dan, who allows me to be myself. But then again, I would never put up with anyone who didn't.

Love, Robin

Remember my mentioning that John C retired and Betty took his place? Betty is an obese, asthmatic woman who has worked here for a very long time. She could have retired, but for some reason has chosen to stick around, and for some other reason unfathomable to all of us, she was given John C's job. Problem is, the latter's job involved lots of running around on the workroom floor, and Betty, between her bulk and breathing difficulties, isn't able to do much running. So she wants to "delegate" the running portion of her position to ME!

She's a supervisor, for God's sake, and one of the purposes of her running is to make supervisory decisions about what she sees when she arrives at the destination. I'm a level 5 clerk, a lowly soul, and I don't get paid anywhere near as much as Betty does, so making me be her legs--and eyes--really isn't fair, or right. I can't make her decisions, so how can I possibly do that portion of her job?

Anyway, this morning, Betty came to sit with me. I gather she's been told to spy. . .I mean sit with each of us here on this side of the room to get an idea of what we do all day. Most of my work is concentrated in the morning, so for her to join me as late as she did, she pretty much missed watching me pull my reports. I showed her what I do with drop shipments and TIMES, but she missed the lions portion of my morning ritual By the time she went to sit with Connie, the latter was all set to begin reading the novel she brought from home!

I was itching to get to my "own" stuff, of course, but Betty lingered, so I was glad when Clyde gave me some typing to do and she lumbered over to sit by Connie. I guess watching me type didn't much interest Betty, and it sure as hell would have incurred my making tons of errors if she had. I don't like people staring over my shoulder. (I know I sound prejudiced against the overweight, but this woman eats like a pig, and I have no patience for fat people who deliberately stuff themselves with bad food anymore than I do for smokers who get lung cancer. Also, the Tony, who shares an office with her, complains that she stinks, and one of the reasons she's doing all this "observing" is to get her out of his smelling zone.)
Awesome HOUSE episode from the other night, titled "Half-Wit." Dave Matthews co-starred, and the show is definitely a keeper.

God, my head hurts. I think the air in here is poisonous!

Last night, the gas man came to read the meter between 6-10 PM. He didn't show up until 9:30 PM, but by that time, I had the dogs upstairs with me and we were in bed trying to sleep. Brad knocked at my door and asked me to take his laundry in to the dry cleaners tomorrow. That disturbed the dogs--and me.

So today after work, I will stop for half an hour at the gym, go home, let out the pooches, take in Brad's laundry, return home, make dinner, then perhaps relax. PERHAPS!

No one said being a working wife and mother would be easy, and indeed, it's not.

I hope Betty doesn't make a habit of watching me work. That will seriously cut into my "me" time here, and that includes this-- blogging.

Nothing new to share, so I will sign off. Hug and kiss those you love--lots.

Love, Robin

Temperature yesterday: bitching cold, with bitter winds that knocked over garbage cans. Driving to work was an obstacles courts as I drove around tops of garbage cans, garbage bags and cans themselves.

Temperature today: bitching cold, plus snow. Connie went with her daughter's class into New York City to see HAIRSPRAY. Between the frigid temps and snow, I bet it was not the best day to be walking the streets of the city.

Vices? I don't have any. No smoking, drinking, excessive gambling, cheating on my husband--gad, I'm a boring soul. I never smoked pot. Most people refuse to believe that, given my being a 70's gal, but when I was in college at SUC Brockport, I just passed the joint to the next person in the circle. No drugs to me meant NO DRUGS. I was lucky enough to have friends who agreed with me, and having their support gave me the courage of my convictions. Usually, whoever I passed on that joint to passed it right on to the next person. And guess what? When I told my son I'd never smoked pot, I was NOT lying! I didn't have to lie! Now I take a zillion doctor-prescribed pills, irony of ironies, but I never did illegal drugs in my life!

I'm indulging myself in SUPERNATURAL-mania. It's fun to be part of an on-line list that's so active, to lust after two young, hot studs like Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki with other women my age, to go to busy web sites with all sorts of links to music, photos and other goodies dedicated to all things SUPERNATURAL. Unfortunately, there are already rumblings that CW might not renew the show for a third season, and I certainly wasn't counting on that. I don't want to give my heart away to a show that will fade away after only two seasons. Been there, done that, and it's too painful. In the meantime, I've living in the now, and having fun with this new fandom. I'm not hurting anyone, and it seems to have finally lifted my blue mood, so damn, I'm going with it!

Dan and I had a nice dinner alone at Sidekicks last night; Brad had a student to tutor. We brought him home a sandwich from Subway.

I went on the rowing machine for half an hour after work yesterday, and let the dogs out when I got home. I had forgotten that the gate was open when I left home in the morning, and I neglected to remind Dan to close it.

I let the dogs out as usual. I suddenly heard what sounded like one of the dogs tapping at the FRONT door. That's when it hit me--the gate! I opened the door, standing there was Snaps, looking at me as if to say, "Hey, the gate was open and I'm here to warn you!" I let him in and, panicked, ran outside in the backyard to make sure Bugsy hadn't followed him out and wandered into the street. My blind dog was standing there, gazing bewilderedly around as I shouted his name over and over. Once I had both dogs safely inside, I ran out and pushed the gate closed. I think about Bugsy getting out of the yard and walking blindly, innocently into the street to get crushed by a speeding car. Biting problem aside, I love him, and would never wish such a terrible fate on him. Never.

As I said earlier, my depression seems to be lifting. I'm still crying far too easily, but that's nothing new for me. Give me a sad movie or TV ending and I'm always blubbering like a child whose candy has been snatched away. I'm sensitive, and peri-menopause has increased it.

I'm very nervous about taking care of Nancy and Chris' dogs and cats for more than a week while they're taking a cruise at the end of this month. I just hope nothing goes wrong--at my home or theirs. It's a long time, much longer than any of my other pet-sitting stints there.

Peace out!

Love, Robin

I finished reading MARLEY & ME at home Friday and cried as hard as I expected I would. But Grogan continues the story and he does adopt another labrador, but you know there will never be another dog like Marley--just as we know there will never be another Snaps, Bugsy, Spock, or Muffin. Each dog leaves indelible marks on our hearts, unique stories to tell. John Grogan told such a poignant story of a "bad" dog, but so many people wrote him about their beloved dogs who were so much worse. It makes me wonder about the story I'm going to write about Bugsy--will others have worse tales about keeping dogs despite their biting-to-draw-blood ways?

Sharon and I finally got together Friday night. We had sensible chicken wraps at Krisch's. She was determined not be be tempted by their homemade ice cream because she'd gained five pounds on her Weight Watchers diet and was angry at herself. When she realized people wanted our table and the only way we could guiltlessly keep it was to continue eating, she insisted we both order ice cream for dessert. She ordered maple walnut and I, peanut butter chocolate, which tasted absolutely delicious and allowed us to sit and shmooze a bit longer.

We headed over to the mall, walked for a while, then sat down to watch the giant coi swim in their pool. I had exercised that afternoon on the rowing machine at my gym, so I didn't feel the need to walk too much. Sharon complained she was farting a lot; I revealed that peri-menopause was causing me the same problem. She had no idea THAT could make for so much flatulence, and the two of us began laughing and laughing. I needed that laughter, believe me, as did she. Sharon isn't happy about her older daughter's boyfriend or her younger daughter's behavior. I suggested a family intervention, since it seems to be making everyone so miserable.

We returned to my house for coffee, back massages, more talk with each other and Dan, and more laughter. I suggested to Sharon that we go on vacation together, just the two of us. The Finger Lakes ("Fuck the Finger Lakes!") are still awaiting us from 30+ years ago! Ironically, she and her family are taking a cruise together, the entire six of them, but on Princess Cruises. I don't think I'd want to take the same ship with all of them.

Saturday afternoon, a gorgeous, springlike day, I let the dogs out in the backyard and stepped onto the deck with them. I noticed the two sons of Marie and Mike standing on the roof. I greeted them and yelled at Bugsy and Snaps, who were standing at the fence, barking at their dogs. I was just about to go back into the house when I heard Marie call my name. I turned back. "My husband died," she said, "yesterday." She rubbed her hands over her face as though she couldn't believe what she was saying aloud to me. I was stunned. I had just seen Mike a few days before! We always used to shmooze over the fence while he barbecued. That he was dead was shocking, unbelievable!

Yet he was. "I'm so sorry," I said, knowing it was inadequate. "My condolences." I asked about a wake, and she said it would be the following day.

Dan and I attended. We napped together with the dogs, then went about 3:30. Mike, a former cop at Riker's Island, was only 60. He's apparently been sick, but we never knew it. He had pneumonia, went into the hospital, suffered cardiac arrest, was brought back with the paddles, but suffered brain damage. He was DNR, so they let him go when it happened again.

He looked very handsome in the coffin, but I burst into tears when I kneeled and gazed at him. I told him to say hi to my parents. I wished him a good trip to heaven. I looked at pictures of him with his wife, his kids, with dogs of all shapes and sizes, in uniform, with friends, family. His mother was there, a slim, elegant woman. Children aren't supposed to die first, her tear-filled eyes screamed.

We hugged Marie and told her to just ask if she needed anything. We hugged Mike's son, Paul, and told him the same. I mentioned how much I enjoyed talking to Mike over the fence when he was barbecuing.

Just before we left, I turned to Dan and hugged him hard, whispering in his ear, "Don't you DARE die on me this way! Don't you dare!"

He promised he wouldn't, but no one can keep such a promise. I'm sure Mike didn't want to leave Marie this way, but he wasn't given a choice.

We went food shopping. I stood on line to buy a cold cut for the week, and got pissed off over how expensive apples were. Everyone was buying meat, veggies, fruit, cookies. Mike's death meant nothing to them. Like the song says, life goes on without me.

Without all of us, really. We are all replaceable, except for those who love us the most, and after a time, we even fade for them.

Sorry to be such a bummer. I wasn't even that close to Mike, yet the suddenness of his passing really upset me.

Love, Robin

. . .both the week and me.

I am on the final chapter of MARLEY & ME and can't bring myself to read it, at least not here. I know I'm going to cry hard enough to flood the inside with as many tears as the outside was flooded with rain today, and we were DRENCHED with rain today! I must have gotten two dozen flood watch warnings in my e-mails this morning alone. I'm sure that my street is flooded, the way it always gets when we have this much rain, and I hope my brakes hold out as I drive through it.

I had to walk Bugsy and Snaps in quite the downpour this morning, too, and I could feel my jacket growing sodden with water. They were content to amble along, soaked though they were, and I'll never understand how they can do that and not feel as yucky as I do. The only good thing about it was the temperature--it wasn't cold!

I still haven't received acceptance into the SUPERNATURAL list I applied to yesterday. I wonder how long I'm going to have to wait. It's a very busy list, too; will that amount of mail thrill me or annoy me? I used to love it when the DS lists were crazy, but I've been on the net now for 11 years--will a busy listserv still make my pulse race?

Nancy took the pictures of Bugsy and Snaps I gave her for her birthday and set them up on her desk here at work. They really are nice photos and I'm glad she likes them enough to want to look at them constantly at her workplace. She's assured me that she'll gladly help out with both dogs if Brad needs assistance when Dan and I go away on our cruise vacation, and given the trouble he had with Bugsy when we were in Vegas, I may just have to take her up on that. She also said she and Chris would be godparents to Bugs and Snaps if anything happened to Dan and me. Nancy actually said she wouldn't mind if Bugsy bit her; she's accustomed to abuse in her life from her upbringing. God, it's sad to say, but she might be the only person I know who is crazy enough to accept Bugsy's shortcomings as Dan and I have!

I'm stopping at the gym this afternoon. Sharon is coming over tonight; we're going out to dinner, then to walk at the mall. She wanted to see a movie, but frankly, given that we haven't seen each other in a couple of months, I just want to sit and shmooze. I really need to talk to Sharon; I've been feeling so low about so many things, I need to talk to HER. She's my go-to person at times like these, you know?

I was thinking about MARLEY & ME as I was driving home last night, after working two hours overtime, and I couldn't help crying. I hate when I get into a depressed mood like that, where, instead of counting my blessings, I tote up shit like my ex-friend not calling me back, Marley's certain death, losing my parents at too-young ages. I hate when I can't stop crying and berate myself in my rearview mirror for being a baby who can't control her emotions. Yet I know I must need these crying jags for some reason, perhaps my psyche's way of blowing off steam. But damn, it's such a downer!

Here's to an upper of a weekend. Dan has to work tomorrow morning, then go to the dentist for his very first crown. He's being a real drama king about it, and I'm teasing the shit out of him for it. Tee hee!

Love, Robin