mid-week photo op

As I type this up on my Palm for later publishing, it is 7:44 is the morning and I am parked right outside the walk-in clinic waiting for the doors to be unlocked at 8am.

It’s raining, hitting the car roof like a waterfall or a bathtub filling, and that’s not really helping my need to pee…

A semi-emergent doctor visit isn’t really how I wanted to start my first week back at work, but it’s actually a kind of slow week anyway, so I doubt I’ll be missing much if I’m a few minutes late, and I have phoned to let them know.

I’m thinking that this is payback.

I went out to a retirement dinner last night for two of my [now former] co-workers. I went home after work for about an hour to see the Magpie, get changed and run a brush through my hair. As I left, I waved and grinned like I’d been picking up a little too much garbage behind the industrial warehouses down the street, and thought I saw her laughing at me.

I was informed when I got home that she was crying when I left.

It didn’t last long, and she still had a good sleep and was happy to see me this morning, but still… how am I to adopt the notion that it’s okay for me take a little time to go out and have fun when my high-horsed bladder clearly wishes to reinforce the mommy guilt and that I shall only pay for my transgressions?

Stupid bladder, anyway.

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