My One Celestial Bone
In two days, my SNAFUed, stressful, state of being will end, and my working life will return to normal. If, and if I make my deadline and get this &^%$*@ document to the printer by Thursday night, peace will be restored to my world. To keep me believing in the higher good, Ryan won Canadian Idol last night. It was like God tossing me a bone, a "hang in there, Crabby - you've been right all along".

The Stranger in my Journal
I found my journal from 1991, likely the last year I bothered to keep one. In it, I found some unfamiliar handwriting:

Jamie's Dream

Down by the barracks
underneath the lamp
There stands Lilli
The girl who falls in love,
falls in love
falls in love.

10¢ a dance
That's what they pay me.
Step on my toes
and crush my dress -
All for
falling in love again.

Never wanted to
What am I to do
But fall in love?

=Jamie, February 1991

It seems pretty Leonard Cohen-ish to me; however, that was the year I hung out with Irving Layton in the faculty club, so it couldn't be. Whoever Jaime is/was, thanks for the poem, but what were you doing in my journal? I swear I kept it in my underpants drawer.

Marrying the Prez, but Coming Home to Better
Today, the prez of my company apologized for being the source of all my stress. "Ah," I sighed (in my head). "Accountability from the top. How refreshing." Well, it was like slipping a ring on my finger; I respect him so much for saying that, I'll never leave now!

Then, when I finally arrived home, dehydrated and gut-rotted from too much coffee and anxiety, Mr. Crabby had a steak dinner, with roses and wine, ready and waiting. For the eighth year in a row, I'd forgotten the anniversary of our first date. Mr. Crabby, dearheart, my love, my buddy, thank you! It was just the thing.