For starters, yesterday was my Grandfather's yarzeit. I took the day off from work to go to Synagogue with my Mother and my Aunt. I actually met my Mom early so that she and I could have dinner first, and was instructed to lie to my Aunt and say we were both working yesterday and that's why we couldn't all have dinner together. The truth was that my Mom and I had just taken Gayle out to dinner last week, and were both still recovering from the stress of that.
So Mom and I had dinner, which, while it was Gayle-free, was not exactly what you would call carefree. All this business with Gayle had gotten my parents thinking about stuff like living wills and Power of Attorney, and dinner was basically a lengthy discussion about shit like that -- nursing homes and pulling the plug and all the shit my parents do and don't want.
Then we got Gayle and went to Synagogue. Gayle was, well, Gayle. The nurses at her facility apparently play WJAS, a local AM station, nonstop. I'm not sure if it's a news station or a talk radio station or what, but Gayle was freaking out and scared because she'd heard something about the bombing of a Synagogue somewhere, and now here we were, walking into Beth Shalom.
But of course it ended up being all fine, no bombs, and we went to 61c afterward and got Italian sodas. Then I came home and called pghwob (who had called during dinner) and we talked about the big thing that's happening today -- namely the all-staff meeting to discuss the idea of joining a union.
Tonight the store is closing early so that the entire staff can get together and talk about this union business. From what I gather, the pro-IWW people (us) will speak, and the anti-union people will speak, and there will be a moderator, and there will be questions. Now the added bonus stress part: I've been volunteered to be one of the pro-IWW speakers. Guy I Liked was actually the one who volunteered me, with pghwob and Sara egging him on. And, as always, I have such a hard time saying no to people, so now I'm stuck.
pghwob emailed me some talking points, and, once I'm done ranting here, I plan to sit down and read through them and make some notes for myself and try to figure out just what the fuck it is that I'm going to say. I know that he's there to help me -- I know that they're all there to help me -- but sometimes I just get to feeling so overwhelmed.
And then there's the third thing (what? you thought there were only two things? ha!). After I make an ass of myself at the all-staff meeting, I get to come home, set my clock and go to bed, and then wake up bright and early tomorrow and take Tino to the vet. I haven't told many people about this, but now I will: Two weeks ago, I discovered a lump on Tino's jaw. He's had issues with lumps in the past -- infected glands and whatnot -- but this one feels different. It's round and solid. It's scaring the crap out of me. And tomorrow morning I'm going to find out (or at least start the process toward finding out).
So here's me, a giant ball of stress, freaking out. Meh.