Monday, June 1, 2009

It's Not Over Til the Fat Lady Sings

There are 6 neatly tied stacks of newspapers against the front door. This happens twice a year, when I'm not around.

Um, we aren't a recycling center. However the Mom-in-law will add them to her donations for the SPCA, who do accept them. I'd stay thanks [or STOP!] but I don't know who you are.

The answering machine is full. 9 out of 10 people say to someone in the background, "Sounds like she's not there," as the machine proclaims we're closed until June 1st.

The aunt in the nursing home wishes me a fun vacation. She then launches into a 10 item list of things for me to handle on her behalf.

A group, angry with my Boss' decision to close us on Thursdays, calls to say they will not be here for the summer to play cards. Another of their group calls to add that they are so incensed about the situation they are now canceling their Tuesday card game here as well. But it's not your fault, they coo lovingly, we like you. We really, really like you. The boss didn't fair as well. Finally, another card groupie calls to cancel their cook out event as someone has offered their private home, complete with pool.

We have 5 acres of grass out back. Can't exactly compete with a pool.

Two ladies turn up this morning for a non-existent Yoga class. It use to be on Monday nights. But the Instructor had a baby. She swears she'll be back to teach again. Soon.

It's her first baby. I doubt I'll ever see her again.

I do explain that we now have a Monday morning exercise class. The ladies smile. Then I have to tell them the Instructor is on vacation and won't be back until next week.

They frown. But they don't threaten me with bodily harm. That goes in the PLUS column.

The Weight Loss group wasn't happy that they couldn't weigh in while I was on vacation. The gate was locked. I sent them a note a week ahead of schedule to let them know. They received it the day after their meeting...6 days later. It only had to go across town. My mailman has a bad habit of ignoring that flag on the box which means STOP-You've Got-Mail-To-Pick-Up. He likes to stop only if he has something to put in the box.

Perhaps I should let the Weight Loss Ladies weigh in on him. Literally.

Today I will turn in my Monthly Report, leaving with the knowledge I will once again hear the Get-your-numbers-up-or-else speech from the boss. {Sort of like the scholarly version of Publish or Perish}. Budget time makes folks at the top of the ladder cranky.

But how do you fight irony? After all, the Boss messed with my Center's hours, then invited those card players to go play somewhere else. Her place. To increase her numbers. Good thing she can't repossess my sense of humor. It doesn't have one of their inventory numbers stamped on it.

At least the card players declined. Point to me for this round.

It's official. Vacation is over. Wonder if I can hide under the desk for a while?

And not even a fat lady here to sing the blues with me.


Susan said...

Ok, ok, I'll be over on the next flight....but I'm not that good a singer. Good at fat, but singing, nah.

hope said...

Ah Susan, my friend, you are a fellow chocoholic, therefore we do not see any extra pounds of others in our species. :)

Thanks for the offer. I decided, in hopeful defiance, to hum instead of sing. ;)

mapstew said...

Hey, I can 'sing', and I'm not fat. (anymore).

hope said...

Map, I'd point out that you're no lady but that might keep you from singing to me. ;)