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Jan. 25th, 2014 05:43 pm
Strange days indeed
The GWO reported that Devon Market was a madhouse today. Apparently everyone is stocking up for Son of Polar Vortex. (Or, as I like to say, the Polar Vorticulus.) He won't be leaving the house. If there's one thing he's learned to treasure about retirement more than any other it's not standing on a street corner in total darkness when it's -20°C out waiting on a bus which may or may not show up.
Right now there's coq au vin on the stove and he's in the dining room talking to himself as he tries to figure out his iPhone. I've taken care of a lot of little things today. Did my first bit of modding and it turned out fine. The perps promptly apologised and, though there was a touch of pushback, my fellow mods soon appeared to back me up. Returned the zinc tablets the Old Man bought me instead of lozenges (which after a drawn-out search of the store the proprietor still couldn't find; why oh why can't Merz Apothecary have a branch near us?). Caught up with some pals via text, PM, and telephone. Tonight I will actually interact with living meatsacks in a face-to-face environment; fortunate I will have the aid of inebriation.
I was supposed to social drink yesterday evening with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
utopian_camorra & co. but I begged off. I said I was feeling lousy due to sinus and such, which was not a lie, but the truer reason was that I'm still so bummed out by his departure. Hopefully it won't last; I've got a meeting Monday (I really really can't imagine they'll give us any more time off) to discuss recommendations with the most Utopian Camorresque of the recent arrivals, and I hope that will lift my spirits.
People keep asking aboutmonshu's retirement and I generally give them the same canned response--he's loving it, he's busy with projects, the cooking is great, etc. The more subtle changes in our dynamic, however, are only just beginning to emerge. I knew being home would make him happier, because of all the bullshit he isn't having to deal with. I figured it would make him chattier, too, since now Scooter and I are the only persons he sees most days who aren't behind a counter. What I didn't anticipate was that this means increasingly he's the one in a better mood. Whereas I used to see it as my responsibility to cheer him up, that has shifted, making me feel like a whiny old sourpuss. Time to start asking the docs for happy pills?
Right now there's coq au vin on the stove and he's in the dining room talking to himself as he tries to figure out his iPhone. I've taken care of a lot of little things today. Did my first bit of modding and it turned out fine. The perps promptly apologised and, though there was a touch of pushback, my fellow mods soon appeared to back me up. Returned the zinc tablets the Old Man bought me instead of lozenges (which after a drawn-out search of the store the proprietor still couldn't find; why oh why can't Merz Apothecary have a branch near us?). Caught up with some pals via text, PM, and telephone. Tonight I will actually interact with living meatsacks in a face-to-face environment; fortunate I will have the aid of inebriation.
I was supposed to social drink yesterday evening with
utopian_camorra & co. but I begged off. I said I was feeling lousy due to sinus and such, which was not a lie, but the truer reason was that I'm still so bummed out by his departure. Hopefully it won't last; I've got a meeting Monday (I really really can't imagine they'll give us any more time off) to discuss recommendations with the most Utopian Camorresque of the recent arrivals, and I hope that will lift my spirits.People keep asking about
monshu's retirement and I generally give them the same canned response--he's loving it, he's busy with projects, the cooking is great, etc. The more subtle changes in our dynamic, however, are only just beginning to emerge. I knew being home would make him happier, because of all the bullshit he isn't having to deal with. I figured it would make him chattier, too, since now Scooter and I are the only persons he sees most days who aren't behind a counter. What I didn't anticipate was that this means increasingly he's the one in a better mood. Whereas I used to see it as my responsibility to cheer him up, that has shifted, making me feel like a whiny old sourpuss. Time to start asking the docs for happy pills?