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Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Do I even need to tell you that the last couple of days have been brutal? You can pretty much assume that by now.

First, Tim calls me before eight on Monday morning. He twisted his knee on Friday, and now heís taken himself to the doctor. They want to do an MRI, but they wonít do it until I get him a workers comp claim number. Just what I needed! Extra paperwork, first thing Monday morning. And on top of that, I have to talk to someone from the insurance company. I think Iím the one who needs compensation.

Then later in the day, I get a call from a banker. A banker! I donít talk to bankers. This guy says Tim asked him to call me about refinancing the loan we got to purchase The Kennel. When I get a call from a banker out of the blue, and he starts talking banking talk, I get this hazy feeling that Iím about to zone out. I tried to tell him that he should talk to the Boss, but he didnít want to ďbotherĒ the Boss, if we could handle this little matter between us.

Well, we canít handle it between us, because he rattles off a list of documents and reports that Iím not prepared to (a) find, or (2) surrender to a banker, without authorization from the Boss. He sends me an email with the same long list, and I fax it to the Boss, hoping heíll make this thing go away. I, for one, donít mind ďbotheringĒ him.

Today I talked to the Boss about the bankerís call, and he agreed with me that by the time we got all these papers together for him, we would have expended more time and money than we could possibly save by refinancing. (Iím sure thatís not true, but I did casually drop Julieís name. She would have done all this work for us, and dealt with the banker, if she were still around. Iím sure the Boss appreciated hearing that.)

The Boss called Tim and tried to tell him to call off the banker. Naturally, Tim went ballistic. So I guess weíre going to have to find a way to gather all these documents and get them to this guy. What a pain. Itís all I needed. My days are already full enough. (But I did need something new to complain about, so at least Iím grateful for that.)




1 August 2007

More wildflowers.



Also yesterday, due to a miscommunication, I spent an hour searching the local high school campus for an eight-year-old boy whom I was supposed to pick up from his first day at soccer camp. Somehow I didnít get the word that heíd never been dropped off, and therefore didnít need to be picked up. It was just a simple misunderstanding, but I was in a bit of a panic when I thought of poor D.J., lost or stolen. (And in a bit more of a panic when I thought about explaining it to Tammy.) But allís well that ends. Well? Isnít that what they say?




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