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July 16, 2002-6:06 a.m. This is the continuation of this entry. Go there, if you haven�t already. After sleeping several hours, I awoke to the phone ringing. It was my sister calling to give my dad another sister�s phone number. Daddy evidently didn�t have her current phone number and had been calling my sisters to let them know about my mom. I get showered and then Daddy and I went back to the hospital. The sister whose phone number he didn�t have is there when we arrive. After we visit with Mom who can barely stay awake, we convince Daddy to go do his errand and we will meet him back at the house. This gives me an opportunity to fill her in on the details of the previous night. As if I haven�t already had enough to deal with, she gets an attitude about not having been called until that morning. I let her know in probably not the nicest way that no one but my brother and I knew until that morning and I didn�t think she really would have wanted us waking her up at 3am to tell her that Mom was in the hospital with an infection. I went back to work on Thursday but it�s not like I got all that much accomplished workwise. I did get into a not that pleasant discussion with one of my coworkers. My assistant and the rodent were having a discussion about the way we were to start counting our production after a team meeting. I was on the phone with my sister-in-law trying to find out if she had learned anything else about my mom�s condition. Another coworker came over and joined the conversation with the rodent, thus exponentially increasing the din around me. I asked, in probably not the nicest way, �Could I get you to take this discussion someplace else?� �Is that a business call?� �No, it�s not. It�s a personal call. My mom�s in the hospital.� Yesterday, we had another team meeting. The supervisor asked me what was wrong, why wasn�t I in a cheery mood. If she knew me at all, of course, that question would have been unnecessary�because as you all know, cheery is rarely an adjective used in the same sentence as Sa. Anyway, I say again, �My mom�s in the hospital.� The same coworker involved in the exchange above says, �You know, Sa, I understand that your mom is in the hospital and you have my sympathy but that excuse is getting old.� My response? Something clever and cutting? I am ashamed to say, no. I responded with something rather childish, �Not as old as my assistant�s back.� I guess I was really stung by that especially since the only other time I had mentioned the fact that my mom has been hospitalized to the coworker in question was in the first exchange. He apologized later and said that we always kid around and he guessed he took it too far this time. Um. Whatever. I suppose I should get ready to drag my weary ass back in there. We are supposed to be getting our annual reviews today. If the previous week�s events are any indication, gross humiliation and disappointment await me. **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
