I have been stretching my neck,
a la Curlin in last weekend’s race, towards the goal of an actual
weekend off. Plans were made, way back in February, for three days of R
& R over the Memorial Day weekend. And up until about thirty hours
ago, those plans looked tantalizingly viable. "Ah," I thought. "I will
have plenty of time to contemplate and communicate wonderful interview
questions on my little vacation…!"
Alas! I should have known better than to count on
being able to scrape myself away from my "dream come true," even for a
few days. My flaky cook (who asked for part of this weekend off and was
denied it) has contracted some dire mystery disease; and she has no idea
when this illness will abate enough for her to come back to work. I
suspect this will happen sometime around next Tuesday…
And so I am feeling extremely put-upon as I come
face-to-face with a stark reality of my new life: Only under implausibly
favorable stars can a small-business owner hope to finagle more than a
couple of hours away from the "baby" that unwaveringly wails for
attention.
And I am just soooo tired tonight….
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