Work

It means something to me, to my family and to my husband’s family. You work. Office, dairy, ranch, non-profit you work. Yes, you work 5-7 days a week, however many hours it takes to get the job done.

That’s just the way it is. Yesterday I spent the entire day with health insurance and taxes. It was not a productive day for someone who sets a goal and meets it. I did not with either.

My husband comes home two days per week but his flight is three hours late because of “wind.” We have strong winds every day but I still take out our old dog five times each day.

He’ll be in after midnight which is good, because he will not have to deal with a lazy employee we pay who is not keeping me safe. That’s why we pay to live here with 24/7 security. All our hirees are online, texting, ordering on Amazon or hanging out in the lobby for hours with a potential “significant other.” So much for the thief who robbed a lot of residents and got away. No-one ever looks at the security cameras. Many are on cell phones and never work.

I’m thinking of changing our domicile. Hate to do it to our old mutt but we may have to do so. My husband’s primary consideration is that I and our old dog are safe. We pay top dollar and they’re not fulfilling their obligation. It’s just the way it is. No crying over spilled milk. No emotion, just a conversation to see whether the Corporate meeting went well today and what investors they have in mind.

We are the flagship property and it would probably help if a trainee was not asleep in a chair when I took out Zoe at 6:45 this morning. Dee