Monday, March 3, 2008

Cut myself on angel hair and baby's breath.

What is it, March 3? When are the ides of March? A quick Google reveals that 'ides' means the 15th of the month. So, never mind. Except that there is grief, if not doom, in my future. I've spent the last couple of days hanging with Steve and his family here, where we are right now. Steve's youngest brother, Brad, was diagnosed with lung cancer about a year ago. He fought it tooth and nail, but it's gotten the best of him. I hope no one ever has to deal with such a thing themselves, but if you do, you'd be very lucky to have a place like the deGreeff Hospice House. It really is a lovely place; built like a sprawling ranch house, it really is more home-y than hospital-y. The care is kind and considerate and it's a really comfortable environment.

So as if it's not bad enough to be dealing with this, my manager has not been particularly supportive of my being away from work to be with my family. I'm not sure why a terminal illness and a desire to support my husband at a really horrible time for him doesn't merit some understanding, but so far, not so much. It's hard to get used to this kind of mentality. In all my other jobs, just a hint at a family crisis got an immediate "get out of here and be with your family" order. I'm feeling really queasy about dealing with this and it think it's fucking shitty that I've been put in this kind of position -- like I practically have to choose between my coffee whore job and my husband. Maybe I'm overstating. I hope I'm overstating. Maybe it's my own inflated sense of responsibility. I don't know. At least I was scheduled to be off tomorrow so I won't feel guilty.

Let's just all hold hands and stop it from snowing, 'kay? Last thing we need this week is shitty weather.

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