So, last week, I submitted a tip on my company's intranet forum, talking about the virtual lunches I've held with co-workers. It was a one-off thing, I didn't think any more about it.
Then I got an email from corporate communications asking if they could publish an article about it on the company internal webpage.
Well you know me, I love attention. So I answered some questions, sent them a photo, and within 24 hours, I was FRONT PAGE NEWS:
My friends have all left positive comments, but so have some strangers - including some people pretty high up the food chain. Does that matter? In the grand scheme, no. I just put it out there as an option for fellow extroverts who needed some people to help recharge. The fact that I have a cute dog doesn't hurt my odds, either.
But it feels good - it's another in a series of signs that I am where I should be. That was evident pretty quickly, and has stayed evident for nearly three years. Where does the time go, I ask you?
I mean, Piper has aged a fair amount in those three years, too. Bless her fuzzy little muzzle. Actually, she's got a middle-aged limp at the moment. I checked the paws - they seem fine, nails too. I can't feel anything wrong with the bones, and the joints all move pretty readily. If I were a betting woman, I'd say she jammed a muscle in her shoulder, and it's strained and sore. That's my diagnosis. I don't want to have to take her to the vet for a bunch of reasons - I can certainly afford it, but I just don't want to have to juggle that - their protocol is stricter than anywhere else. They take the dog from your car, get her into the clinic, see her and bring her back. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. And she's moving around OK. So if she's not better by the weekend, maybe we'll take her in Monday.
It's hard to have a dog - they can't tell you, "Hey, I was jumping to try and climb that tree to get the black and white cat that sometimes comes around, and I was barking, and Zoomer next door was barking, and shit got intense, and I came down off the stone wall wrong and messed up my shoulder. Can I please have some muscle relaxers?"
Don't we all want some muscle relaxers? Flexoril, Soma - I'm not picky.
I sent in a piece to McSweeney's - I fully expected it to get returned, at which point, I'll post it here.
We ordered some groceries - half at Kroger, the other half (all the perishables) from our local coffee shop who has made a serious pivot in this new economy. I'm not mad at them - local produce, fresh meats, local baked goods, local dairy. Yes, please!
We're getting used to the new normal. I wonder what the new-new normal will look like once we get back to "normal".
As we say in my Person First training - "Normal is just a setting on your washing machine. Why not be Gentle instead?"
Now that's quotable!
Then I got an email from corporate communications asking if they could publish an article about it on the company internal webpage.
Well you know me, I love attention. So I answered some questions, sent them a photo, and within 24 hours, I was FRONT PAGE NEWS:
My friends have all left positive comments, but so have some strangers - including some people pretty high up the food chain. Does that matter? In the grand scheme, no. I just put it out there as an option for fellow extroverts who needed some people to help recharge. The fact that I have a cute dog doesn't hurt my odds, either.
But it feels good - it's another in a series of signs that I am where I should be. That was evident pretty quickly, and has stayed evident for nearly three years. Where does the time go, I ask you?
I mean, Piper has aged a fair amount in those three years, too. Bless her fuzzy little muzzle. Actually, she's got a middle-aged limp at the moment. I checked the paws - they seem fine, nails too. I can't feel anything wrong with the bones, and the joints all move pretty readily. If I were a betting woman, I'd say she jammed a muscle in her shoulder, and it's strained and sore. That's my diagnosis. I don't want to have to take her to the vet for a bunch of reasons - I can certainly afford it, but I just don't want to have to juggle that - their protocol is stricter than anywhere else. They take the dog from your car, get her into the clinic, see her and bring her back. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. And she's moving around OK. So if she's not better by the weekend, maybe we'll take her in Monday.
It's hard to have a dog - they can't tell you, "Hey, I was jumping to try and climb that tree to get the black and white cat that sometimes comes around, and I was barking, and Zoomer next door was barking, and shit got intense, and I came down off the stone wall wrong and messed up my shoulder. Can I please have some muscle relaxers?"
Don't we all want some muscle relaxers? Flexoril, Soma - I'm not picky.
I sent in a piece to McSweeney's - I fully expected it to get returned, at which point, I'll post it here.
We ordered some groceries - half at Kroger, the other half (all the perishables) from our local coffee shop who has made a serious pivot in this new economy. I'm not mad at them - local produce, fresh meats, local baked goods, local dairy. Yes, please!
We're getting used to the new normal. I wonder what the new-new normal will look like once we get back to "normal".
As we say in my Person First training - "Normal is just a setting on your washing machine. Why not be Gentle instead?"
Now that's quotable!
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