Coughing

Rough week. Both of us ill, D much worse. Unusual, he's rarely ill for more than a day or two. Nor are we often sick together. Coughing through the night, for the worst of it. Litany of viral distresses.

Trouble at work from the sort-of-gone, not quite gone enough, evil manager. Written up, and it feels personal and vindictive. Anonymous complaint, again, and vague. When I asked the circumstances and what exactly happened, she shrugs and says "I don't know, I'm not back there!" And the also usual, "everybody" vague complaint. So, I take it to the people I work with, who are baffled, grasping at something that makes sense. One suggests I make a list of everyone I speak to, which makes a lie of the "everybody" and I know who I believe. But I'm fighting it, and appealing the write up* according to policy.

I suspect it is personal, as she tried to lash out at the nurse who'd gone to do her thesis, but was kept on the hired list. Shot a blank there, see. My thorough and open honesty is making a lie of her complaint against me. It's still a blow, and I'm doing my best tai chi on it, to turn it back on her. She may well have made it all up out of whole cloth. Or a couple of the ancillary people saw banter and took it personally and out of context. OR banter is rough and sarcastic, and I'm good at keeping up my end.

The unabashed support I got from everyone I work with, including the astonished and forceful reaction from our head anesthesiologist, cheers me even more than her sniping harm. Still, a night without decent sleep while coming down with a coughing virus, not what I needed. Last night, D took to the spare room to avoid keeping me awake with his cough. I am entirely grateful. Although at one point we were both awake, barking to each other like seals across the pier.

Raining, and the garden is happy. Seeds coming up, allium blooming, everything greening.

On Wednesday, I read by the window with tea. When I got up, Moby decided this was a really good idea, and took over the chair.



He's back there now.



He's always been a cat of particular moods, choosing a favorite place to sleep for a stretch, then another. Last week, he only wanted to be in the back room on the bed. Sometimes it's D's chair, or the sofa, or the sideboard. We just assume it's a Cat Thing, and we Wouldn't Understand.




*Left to stand, it will deprive me of any raise or bonus this year.