And then there's George...
Sat., March 12, 11:45 AM
You should be careful what you wish for. Not that I’m certain what I was wishing. Before I got sick, I worked ten to fifteen hours a week for Bosslawyer. Occasionally we had an assistant, but mostly he barely had enough work to keep me busy. Taking on an assistant was his way of hedging his bets, in case I decided to leave.
Meanwhile, the job was boring. I’d do a couple of hours in the morning, go home for lunch (and to check on Husband), and return for a couple of hours more. I had so little to do that I used to write my posts. After we got internet (which he still doesn’t know how to use), I could spend my time reading diaries. It’s a rare week when I see anyone other than the two lawyers and the postman.
Not only is it boring, but in the winter, it was cold. I suspect the heat collects in the men’s offices, while I shiver in the front. Whatever. You have to have patience. Many things will improve if you just wait.
When I got sick, of course, I worked fewer hours. Assistant or not, I got everything done. (Something I pointed out to Adecco, when I told them that I had been in the same place for three years without an increase.) I spent less time in the office because I had less energy and, naturally, Bosslawyer didn’t mind. Even though I’m healthier, I still work two or three hours and go home. It’s a little annoying, though. He generally produces enough work that I don’t have time to read diaries. I am really behind!
Some things are better than they were. For example, I brought in a little space heater, which I can use whenever I’m really cold. (Most of the time.) They’re keeping the building a little warmer, though.
I may have mentioned that Otherlawyer became a cardiac patient last year. I know that some of these medications make you feel the cold more; Husband, who was always too warm, is now often cold. Otherlawyer, who has to pay for the oil in this drafty old building, used to set his thermostat low, but he no longer brags about how he likes it cold. The other effect of his cardiac medication is that he needs the bathroom more; suddenly our bathroom has hot water again. He even managed to bleach the sink white.
But I’m pleased with Bosslawyer’s new hobby. Bosslawyer and his wife have one grown son, and I guess they were experiencing the empty nest. In any case, Bosslawyer went to the dog pound, and he found George.
George is a baby – his age was listed at two years, but we don’t think he’s that old – he’s just big. He looks like a German wire-haired pointer, but there’s a strong hint of Labrador there as well. He was in the pound because his former owner had to go into the hospital and couldn’t keep him any more. He was terribly lonely when Bosslawyer found him.
So George is a needy baby. He has learned the commands that Bosslawyer taught him, but he still needs his people near him. He can’t be left alone. He goes to work either with Bosslawyer or with Mrs. Bosslawyer every day. He cries pitifully if the Boss has to leave him in the office even for a short time. Should a client come in, Bosslawyer introduces George as his personal trainer – and indeed, his blood pressure has fallen since he’s had to walk the dog every day.
I enjoy George, partly because he reminds me of Inky. It’s the expression in those soulful brown eyes. Generally I stay seated when he’s around, because as edgy and fearful as he is, I still am no longer able to handle a big dog. But he knows who has the dog biscuits, even though he doesn’t like the squeaky drawer. I call him the cookie monster.
I still think I’ve been there too long. I’m thinking retirement again, but I can’t do that until I feel I’ve found a proper replacement. Feeling that kind of responsibility – for a temp job – is the clearest indicator that I really should leave.
