Random: A few hic-cups

Mite hic-cup

I was so frazzled that I repeatedly addressed Oldest mite by Youngest mite’s name. Oldest mite looked at me with that horrible ‘wounded lamb’ look and said in a very small voice, “His name… [name]. Annnd my name… [name], Mummy.”

Feeling like crap, I apologised and hugged him. I explained my brain was still in bed so my skull was empty. He looked at my head for a moment. He then leaned forward until our foreheads were almost touching and said solemnly, “You can borrow my brain today. I need it back for kool (school) tomorrow. Uukay?”

That almost made me forgave all the destruction his Kung-Fu craziness made on this house last few months. Almost. I’m still not happy about having to pay for two broken windows, one broken chair, torn t-shirts, a few broken toys, Anna’s ripped jacket, one broken floor lamp, a cracked light switch cover, a few wall dents, and Will’s chipped tooth.

I still don’t know where the mite got all that energy from. Since last year, he went from a reasonably sometimes occasionally quiet lad who worshipped at the altar of Speed Racer, The Curse of the Were-Rabbit and GeGeGe no Kitaro to a destructive ball of Kung Fu madness that still worships at the altar of Speed Racer, The Curse of the Were-Rabbit and GeGeGe no Kitaro.

I’m still certain it’s a payback from something I did when I was a child. Such as killing a spider with a book or using a water pistol on Aunt’s truly psychotic Yorkshire Terrier that wanted me dead. He lived up to his name, too. I can’t remember what it was, but it was very him. [Edited: Ares.]

Twitter hic-cup

Earlier this afternoon I woke up from another nap to an email from work, requesting a formal meeting later tonight to discuss my “lack of discretion” on Twitter. Eep.

I knew a certain ambitious colleague had been “monitoring” my twitter stream for a couple of weeks, and that he’d be the one to report me if he thought it’d benefit him somehow. Until now I truly believed I hadn’t written anything that would land me or that company in trouble. I still don’t think I have. We will see.

Either way it has me deciding to delete the account. It’s not worth the hassle (translation: that colleague can go fuck himself). I wanted to delete it earlier, but I thought I should make a note of usernames so I can follow them if I get a new account where that dickhead can’t find me. So yeah. Fabulous.

The ugly monster in me is truly keen to stomp on his pinhead.

Work hic-cup

I attended a screening this morning and I was so tired, having worked all night, that I fell asleep, about twenty minutes into the film. Some prankster – thankfully, a reviewer I knew for years – shone his penlight at my face, waking me up. Then he said in a sing-song voice, “Wakey wakey, sleepy little star, the film’s ended!” So embarrassing. I rarely fell asleep during a screening.

It’s even more embarrassing that I had to ask him and the other person to email me their notes and impressions for the price of a round at a pub. Gah.

Ebook Reader hic-cup

I’m still not exactly sure how it happened, but during a train journey last week, I somehow managed to erase all books from my ebook reader. I had eight books in reading progress, which means I lost all bookmarks. Bugger. I wish I knew what I did so I would make sure I’d not do it again.

For what it’s worth, the eight books I was reading:

• Frozen Moment by Camilla Ceder (mystery, set in western Sweden)
• Warrior by Zoe Archer (adventure historical romantic fantasy)
• Should We Drown in Feathered Sleep by Michael Merriam (romantic SF novella, possibly. Got this because of its title.)
• The Trophy Taker by Lee Weeks (mystery, set in Hong Kong. I finished this late last week. Not good. In fact, I’d made a mental note not to buy another Weeks novel.)
• Pieces of Sky by Kaki Warner (western historical. Read only first twenty pages, so far so good.)
• The Thieves of Manhattan by Adam Langer (crime caper. Got this because it features my favourite kind: metafiction. Of what I read so far, I have mixed feelings. It reminds me a little of a certain bloke who can be a real garrulous peacock.)
• Like Clockwork by Bonnie Dee (steampunk romance from Carina Press)
• Gone, Baby, Gone by Dennis Lehane (mystery, set in Boston in the US. Saw the film, now reading this. Or trying to.)

Guitar hic-up

A couple of months ago Oldest mite somehow managed to crack one of Will’s guitars in half. I think he leapt from a chair or table and the guitar was in the way. OM, via my blatant attempt to soften up Will before breaking the news, did a painting as an apology. I also had him memorising a promise that he wouldn’t do it again. YM helped with the painting, bless him.

They presented the painting as soon as Will got home, from a long work trip, a couple of hours later. He made a show of pinning it to a wall in his office upstairs and told me how his trip went while the mites crawled all over him. Somewhere along the line I forgot to tell him about the guitar.

Last Sunday Will, while we were at kitchen table, suddenly said he tried to find his guitar the other day, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Until then I completely forgot about the guitar. I should tell him there and then, but he had had a tough week and I didn’t want to put him in a blacker mood so I said, “Which one?” He described it. “Hm. I don’t know. I will find it this week.” He shrugged and said thanks, and went back to reading the newspaper. I had this idea of taking it to a repairs shop ASAP but yeah, it didn’t go the way it was supposed to go.

Later that day I was upstairs, headdesking over a project that was going to the dogs, when Bam! went the door and there he was, Will holding the broken guitar he accidentally found in the basement.

I’m still in the dog’s house. Although Oldest Mite doesn’t know, so is he.

The Mother of Hic-cups: Schedule hic-up

I royally fucked up my schedule. Yesterday I thought it was Thursday (as in 25 November) so I was truly shocked to discover it was actually Wednesday 1 Dec. This meant I missed three meetings, three deadlines and six promised phone calls. I spent all day yesterday sending apologies and I grovelled so much that I couldn’t feel my mental knees any more. Luckily no one was angry. They amazingly asked if I was all right and whether I needed a break or a deadline extension. I feel so lucky yet so guilty.

Conclusion

I do realise that the chaos of the house move and packing*, erratic working hours and the snow were the contributions to my variegated downfall, but it still doesn’t excuse nor explain why I made so many cock-ups this week. So mortifying. Apart from the Twitter issue and Will, everyone was really nice and incredibly understanding.

I did try to creep back into Will’s good books today by offering to do whatever he wanted including being civil to J.R. — Jonathan is Will’s closest friend from school days, the mites’ ‘godfather’ and my sworn enemy. You know why he’s called J.R.? He’s the splitting image of American actor Larry Hagman (during his I Dream of Jeannie years), who’s best known for his role as J.R. from Dallas and also ‘J.R.’ happens to be J.R.’s initials hence the nickname, but I like to think he’s earned the nickname due to him being a dickhead — but alas, Will’s nose is still in the air.

We both know I’m rarely occasionally sometimes in the wrong and he’s making the most out of it, the cad.

*An appointment with a lifestyle manager is one of those missed appointments. *cringe* She was very nice about it, though, which eased my anxiety and guilt a bit.

Right. I’d better have a quick nap before the dreaded meeting and the awesome task (reading Ann Somerville’s new book ). Good night. Oh, I do believe I’m nervous because there are butterflies slaughtering each other in my stomach.

The last time I was in trouble at work was my first job years ago because I abused a photocopier. Not in a way you think it might be. I photocopied my face to create a bunch of house party invitations. I thought the photocopier was free for all staff to use, but I was severely corrected on this. Well, I shall be calm and brave. I have done nothing wrong. Yup. Well, asides plotting the demise of that colleague. I don’t think this is a bad thing, though. Heh.