even in low times, people step on you

It has been a weekus horribilious for me. The very strange gland swelling around my carotid artery started everything off on a very weird note. And as Hunter S. Thompson/Raoul Duke said, "when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." All the professional weirdness made its way to my place this week. My weird illness brought my mother up to tend to me. While she was here, (and my Dad out of town) we received the news that her baby brother, my uncle had died suddenly. He was only 53. A poor lost soul, ravaged by the excessive drink and drugs he turned to throughout his life. He was a softheart, who wanted everyone to get along and wanted his family to be like a Norman Rockwell painting. This was not the case. My mother's upbringing was so horrific, she has completely blocked much of it out. She is a survivor, she was beaten and abused, but rose above it and became not only a great mother, but a successful woman. Her baby brother was always looking for familial approval, but my grandfather was always evil and my grandmother was so beaten into submission that he never got the true love he so sought. He died peacefully in his sleep.

Dealing with that has been bad enough, but as today's title suggests, in the depth of my morning and illness, more crapped has been heaped upon me. Customers of mine have complained greatly to our sales and marketing group. These particular customers are very high-maintenence. It was not enough that they vilified the efforts of my team, they also hate our yarns and colors and have complaints about our design abilities. But not enough to quit doing business with us. Oh, no. I got word at 6:30 this morning that I am to be in NYC at a meeting Monday morning with this customer to plan a big new collection. Why can they not try some possitive reinforcement? Why must members of the design community be so bitchy?



Normally I leap at the chance to get to the big apple. But trying to heal and mourn have made me long for my own home and hearth. It is Friday night and I am so glad to be here in my pajamas, with my hound at my feet, in front of my warm fire. Al and Jake are watching an old B&W movie, the fire is crackling. I will enoy these moments. Life is fleeting.

At least there will be no alarm in the morning...