Today was the day I figured out I’m going to be no fun for the next month or so. Now, I’m not all that much fun in good times, but I was doing okay today, even though I was working through a Sunday doing things I shouldn’t have to do on a weekend. That’s fine. I can handle that — or I could, until the Boss got back from his holiday and started sending faxes asking me to do even more. I wanted to reach through the phone line and strangle him. Literally.

It took me a while to get back into the zone. Work is work, and it has to be done, either now or later. Anything I don’t want to do now, I do later. If I don’t want to do it later, I can sometimes shove it off on the Boss and make him do it. One way or another, I survive this frantic time of year, every year. So far, anyway. I don’t know why I let myself get all worked up, but that’s the way it is. I’m not a lot of fun to be around when it happens, but it might be hard to notice the difference.

It’s all about money. It’s always about money. There’s not enough of it, there’s too much of it, who gets what we have, who has to wait for their share. All these questions get answered, sometimes gradually and sometimes by default, but what I needed from the Boss today was more answers, not more questions. That’s the reason I was punching the air. This time.