Here I am, on Monday night, and I can feel the stomach acid ‘a brewin’.  Two causes:  one is an impending presentation tomorrow (en français) that I do not feel especially prepared for.  (Yes, I know, I shouldn’t be scribbling down my inane thoughts – I should be working.)  The other:  well, let’s just say that tomorrow is likely to be the day that I find out how bad the backlash is from Phonenumbergate.  Either way, I would be happier to just stay in bed tomorrow.  But that wouldn’t solve anything.  I’d have to take a 0 on the presentation (and I can guarantee you that is not an option).  And if I don’t show up to work?  Aside from losing a day’s pay (also unacceptable), I would be giving this whole…incident…more weight than I should.  What am I really worried about?  That there will be some whispering and gossiping (and quite possibly an uncomfortable discussion with my boss).  All of those things I can live with.  I would prefer not to have to, but if it comes to it, I will.  Giving in and taking to my bed with “the vapors” makes everything a bigger deal than it needs to be.  This is why I was so cheesed about the possibility that the “incident” became a topic of discussion.  It didn’t have to be a big deal, but here I am, blogging about it and generally making myself physically uncomfortable.  If he had just blown me off, I wouldn’t have had this problem.  Seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?

I have my fingers crossed for an uneventful day.  If that happens, I will jump for joy, blog that nothing happened, and never speak of it again.

Oh, and by the way – when in God’s name am I supposed to do all the damn work I have to do in the next 7 weeks?  I suppose this means I had better shut up and get cracking.

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