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Thursday, May 5, 2005

Can it be Thursday night already? That makes tomorrow Friday, right? I’m not ready! I must have lost more than one day this week, because I’m so backed up I’m swirling. Yup, right down the drain. I’m lower than the Yankees, and that’s pretty low.

The Boss (my boss, not Steinbrenner) thinks I’m overworked, but that’s not it at all. I don’t have too much to do. I can do everything that’s asked of me, and I can do it well. I just can’t do it all at the same time! I can’t give you minutes of a corporate shareholders’ meeting that was never held, and reconcile a bank statement that I don’t have yet, and process all the applications for the new insurance that he hasn’t selected the coverage for.

I mean, I can do it all, of course I can. But a guy’s gotta breathe once in a while, too.




We who are on the company’s board of directors never see each other and frankly don’t much like each other, so of course the required “meetings” are mythical, and the minutes are manufactured from crushed and chopped boilerplate. Suddenly the accountant has decided he needs to see the minutes for the last five years. Not hard work for me. But busywork for sure.

The Boss started hounding me for the April bank reconciliation before May had even started. He wants to know “how we’re doing.” He wants everything to “balance,” including things that have nothing to do with each other. It’s hard to balance when the bank makes so many mistakes.

Actually, I make the mistakes, but I blame the bank. The Boss has no trouble believing that the bank’s billion dollar computers can misplace a decimal or transpose figures. If I make an adjusting entry labeled “bank error,” he accepts it. It gets me off the hook, not for the error itself but for the hours and hours I would have spent tracking it down. Busywork.

The change in the health insurance policy is his baby. It was his idea, and he volunteered to get the employees to fill out their applications, “even if we have to pay them overtime to do it.” I’m still waiting for the applications, and for him to decide what coverage we’re going to have so that I can figure out how much of a deposit the new HMO needs.

I guess for once instead of him hounding me, I have to hound him. I’m not inclined to wake up the bear if he’s asleep, though. I’ll just wait until he asks me why it isn’t done, and then I’ll gently remind him that he’s the one holding up the lunch line this time.




5 May 2005

Threat.



All this is happening while Julie and I are working on the month-end accounting for the kennel, and while I’m trying to keep the company going by paying the bills on time and trying to collect enough money to do so. I’m not saying I’m not up to the task. I’m just saying it can’t all be done yesterday, just because Samantha twitches her nose and Jeannie blinks. (Or was it the other way around?)




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Stuff

So the 25-car wreck at Talladega Sunday was caused by Jimmie Johnson, according to Dale Earnhardt, Jr.? Funny, but I saw it a little differently. Seems to me Junior was bump drafting in the middle of the Tri-Oval and sent Mike Wallace into Johnson’s path. If anybody was to blame, it was Junior, because the drivers had been warned about the bumping, especially on the turns. And he was doing it throughout the whole race. It’s kind of amazing nothing happened until so late in the race.

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One year ago: Grumpy
"If they call me again tomorrow, I'm going to tell them to take their card and wedge it in sideways."


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