Caterwauling

Not for me, you pervs, but for Shawn.

OK, so I am kind of drunk right now (yes, it’s 6 p.m., but I had a hideous workday), and Shawn asked me to shave his head for him. So I did. I am covered in Shawn-hairs, and he’s in the shower, ridding himself of whatever fell from the Flowbee-type system he bought. At least I didn’t draw blood or anything. He looks good, save for one tiny patch above his ear where I might have gone too close (I did that part left-handed, proving that I can only masturbate with that hand, and that’s about it!), but he ain’t Van Gogh (all ears are intact), so I consider this an accomplishment.

So I found myself straddling him on the back porch. This is an activity better left to people who will fuck afterward — there was nothing erotic about shaving a gay man’s head. But if there are any straight men in need of a trim (in ANY area), I handled those clippers pretty darned beautiully. Thank you, Bacardi 151!

Y’know, if it weren’t a holiday weekend, I would sincerely pick up an Uzi and clean the workplace out. Thanks to the saving grace of tomorrow being a federal holiday, there is hope indeed for my sanity. This place makes me want to eat carbs. Or kill myself. Whichever weapon is handier. 😉

Two hours with Demure today, total. Yes, when I came back from the doctor, she plopped in my office for an hour, with more of King Kumquat’s unrealistic expectations. And I said look, I tried what he wants, but he didn’t respond to that either. He assured her that this time, he’ll respond. Yeah, whatever. He also wants the paper to be done a week in advance. Um, sure. Demure and I had this convo a week ago, at which time I told her to tell him to sit and spin. I said it’s not impossible, but it’s going to take a few months to make the evolution. So he told her he wants it a week early next month, and she promised it. I told her I refuse to kill myself like that, especially when I told her that it will be a process, not an immediate change. Further, I told her that if I have to bust my balls to meet his deadlines, the least he can do is to not hand in his shit to me five or six days after my submission deadline — that he has cultivated such an environment of apathy and turn-it-in-whenever-you-feel-like-it among himself and his staff and associates that nobody feels that they have to adhere to anything you tell them.

Oh, and here’s the latest: if I haven’t received Kumquat’s corrections to the paper, I have to delay its publication until I get those corrections and input them. I made it very clear that it’s not like we get delayed by a day — the publishing house can’t book runs in fewer than seven days from the day that you ask. Kumquat and Demure are OK with this — just as long as he gets his stupid 10 suggestions bowed down to. Fuck around.

Oh god, I can’t take it anymore. I’m ready to croak. I am sincerely walking out at 2 p.m. today and I’ll come in during the weekend, but I’ve GOT to get away from Demure.

In better news, Shan and I gave our friend RC a big box full of food and a grocery store gift certificate. RC burst into tears and hugged us tightly. She was grateful not only for our little gesture (we wanted her to have some snacks and food for her first weekend in her new place), but for the fact that she’s never experienced the benefits of friendship like that — that nobody has ever done anything like that for her.

We were surprised at her reaction — pleasantly, of course — but Shan and I lean on each other all the time, so much so that we’ve become accustomed to, whenever we need a helping hand, it’s always there. We look at it like we’re keeping each other afloat — to the point of taking turns with the ventilator and the I.V. tube — just to ensure that the other one will make it for awhile. And now RC is part of our circle … so, all in all, what started out to be a box full of pantry items turned out to be two friends throwing a life preserver to a new friend and helping her to have a good start to her weekend (after a truly shit-fuck week). RC and I will be neighbors come Aug. 1, and she’s already called to ask me if she can help me to plan Shan’s surprise baby shower, so I guess it’s true that karma always comes around to lend a hand when you’re going to be the one in need. 😉

All my best to all of you this holiday weekend. Here’s to hoping the poison of work courses out of your veins and that you can share some special time with the people you love and/or dote a little bit on the most important person in your life — YOU. 🙂

I had an unpleasant optometric experience today. Seems my contacts came in five weeks ago, only nobody bothered to call me. So I strolled in today, and before I could take them out of the building, I had to attend “Contact Lens Class.”

The short version: I left the contacts there and ran screaming to the car. The long version: I fought for an hour, getting those bastards in my eyes, only to not be able to get them out. My corneas ache, the whites of my eyes are red and my tear ducts are in overdrive. The good news is that my irises are this amazing emerald shade today, thanks to the tears and pain. The bad news is that I have a tension headache and will have to continue wearing my glasses for a long time to come.

I was already miserable from an hour-long, unnecessary meeting with Demure, which I walked out of so I could make my appointment time. I still don’t know what she does for a living, other than interrogate her two staff members. I really don’t. Perhaps half of my eye pain comes from rolling my eyes every five seconds. 🙂