This week has unequivocally blown donkey balls. Work gets worse every day, and Orpheus and I seem to be floundering. We had a very uncomfortable discussion online Wednesday, which ended with O. offering to make me feel better, but still really wishy-washy on what HE wanted, yet again. I, of course, spent the night with him even though it was supposed to be our night off, and nothing changed, despite his promise to do a couple things immediately (that never, incidentally, got done). Who knows… Maybe he completed his mission today. Either way, we’ve agreed that tonight is to be a night off, if only because a former f-bud of mine is in town to visit, and Orpheus really doesn’t like him. The one good thing about all this is that he trusts me to sit down with said former f-bud without taking off clothes, so that’s good, but I abhor taking weekend nights with O. as off-time…
After work, I have to rush home, quickly clean things up a little, and start making dinner… This for a guy who is in the hospitality business, and had an excellent culinary education. Hopefully, the wine I picked doesn’t suck, even if it is supposed to be a good pairing for a savory chicken pie. At least I know that dinner itself will be wonderful, but after this week, I have to say, I just hope I don’t make the filling I’m caramelizing into a savory marmalade of despair, a-la the pickle-making wife in Midnight’s Children. Then, it’s off to the bars. Blech. I don’t need any more alcohol, I think… Possibly ever.
Monday, I have an interview… At John Deere (no, I’m not kidding). Wish me luck. I think we’ll all need it. I wish you all luck, and hope you haven’t already lost your shirts and/or retirement funds, like my parents.
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