Family Affairs
Dec. 12th, 2005 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianBack at work and once again, James did next to nothing that could be called "cover". He actually seems rather proud of this, because now at least I know what needs to be done ... namely everything. I'm still not 100%, I'm still kind of draggy and run-down, and yet I wind up having to play catch-up on three days' worth of work because bloody James didn't think to at least take note of any referees' comments received unless they were absolutely urgent and requested by our associate editor. I don't have the energy for this, but am going to wind up doing it anyway. Then I go home and cook dinner, because I know that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dodgyhoodoo a) was on earlies today and b) has a meeting at the end of the day that he's not allowed to skip out on despite being on earlies. We really can't justify the cost of eating out, what with the holidays and the Affils launch expenses, given that it's over a week until payday for both of us. And frankly, given the day we'll both have had by the time this day is over, we'll both need something more substantial than just a bowl of soup, which is our current non-cook, non-eating-out option. So I go home and cook dinner, and then I collapse in a little heap somewhere. Bleh.
It's not so bad. Two weeks until the holidays, after all. The office essentially shuts down for that week between Christmas and New Year, which is a novelty for me. After all, I've spent the past few years working in hospitals in offices that insisted on at least minimal cover over the holiday period, only drawing the line at bank holidays. Of course, you could book annual leave at that time, but only if you acted really fast (last year I only heard that there was a minimum number of people who could book time off over that week when everyone else had been given a shot at booking those days, so it was "People can book time off over the holidays but not you, because it's already been booked", which kind of defeated the purpose -- I hated St Barts sometimes). This year, it's not expected and the whole office shuts. Huzzah.
Counting my blessings over the holiday period: I get that week off, no questions asked. I'm spending it with a loved one without having to worry about not being able to travel because of shut-down public transport (a novelty this year). I get to cook in my own kitchen and not carry the fruits of my labours around with the possibility of dropping the whole mess all over a rental car or flight of stairs ... and, given that I won't be doing the pudding this year, I also won't have to worry about destroying surfaces, floor and oven interior with flour, icing sugar, cake batter or whatever. And at some point I'll get to watch White Christmas, my favourite piece of Christmas shmaltz ever ... that's if I can take the half-amused, half-pained "I don't believe you want to watch that but okay" look ondodgyhoodoo's face every time the subject comes up. (It's not so bad, really; it's almost funny, and I'm not as defensive about it as I seem.)
And I will not have to deal with the family for another year. Mum ... well, it might be all right, but I won't know about that until I see her on Saturday afternoon. David ... I still haven't forgotten him basically asking me to be understanding of the fact that Mum pinned all her expectations on me and I let her down; who says that to their stepkid? And then there's David's relatives, who are nice enough but I've never really got used to them -- David's dad and Auntie Vi are both sweet people and I like them but I've never dealt with people who are quite that old (both in their 90s) before and it's difficult. It's drawing the line between talking loud enough to be heard by the hard of hearing and yelling, and having to repeat myself, and reminding myself over and over and over that they have very different social context than I do so some of the things I might talk about or be interested in or whatever might be incomprehensible and / or downright offensive to them. Having to put the checkreins on my personality to prevent family arguments is hard enough without having to redouble my efforts in the face of a huge generation gap. I don't consider myself ageist or anything (at least I hope I don't come across that way), but it's a consideration. I don't think devout Christian Auntie Vi would be particularly impressed to hear me talking about Mithras rituals or what have you. I can't even talk about what I write half the time, just in case. It's a pain, but there you go.
dodgyhoodoo a) was on earlies today and b) has a meeting at the end of the day that he's not allowed to skip out on despite being on earlies. We really can't justify the cost of eating out, what with the holidays and the Affils launch expenses, given that it's over a week until payday for both of us. And frankly, given the day we'll both have had by the time this day is over, we'll both need something more substantial than just a bowl of soup, which is our current non-cook, non-eating-out option. So I go home and cook dinner, and then I collapse in a little heap somewhere. Bleh.It's not so bad. Two weeks until the holidays, after all. The office essentially shuts down for that week between Christmas and New Year, which is a novelty for me. After all, I've spent the past few years working in hospitals in offices that insisted on at least minimal cover over the holiday period, only drawing the line at bank holidays. Of course, you could book annual leave at that time, but only if you acted really fast (last year I only heard that there was a minimum number of people who could book time off over that week when everyone else had been given a shot at booking those days, so it was "People can book time off over the holidays but not you, because it's already been booked", which kind of defeated the purpose -- I hated St Barts sometimes). This year, it's not expected and the whole office shuts. Huzzah.
Counting my blessings over the holiday period: I get that week off, no questions asked. I'm spending it with a loved one without having to worry about not being able to travel because of shut-down public transport (a novelty this year). I get to cook in my own kitchen and not carry the fruits of my labours around with the possibility of dropping the whole mess all over a rental car or flight of stairs ... and, given that I won't be doing the pudding this year, I also won't have to worry about destroying surfaces, floor and oven interior with flour, icing sugar, cake batter or whatever. And at some point I'll get to watch White Christmas, my favourite piece of Christmas shmaltz ever ... that's if I can take the half-amused, half-pained "I don't believe you want to watch that but okay" look on
dodgyhoodoo's face every time the subject comes up. (It's not so bad, really; it's almost funny, and I'm not as defensive about it as I seem.)And I will not have to deal with the family for another year. Mum ... well, it might be all right, but I won't know about that until I see her on Saturday afternoon. David ... I still haven't forgotten him basically asking me to be understanding of the fact that Mum pinned all her expectations on me and I let her down; who says that to their stepkid? And then there's David's relatives, who are nice enough but I've never really got used to them -- David's dad and Auntie Vi are both sweet people and I like them but I've never dealt with people who are quite that old (both in their 90s) before and it's difficult. It's drawing the line between talking loud enough to be heard by the hard of hearing and yelling, and having to repeat myself, and reminding myself over and over and over that they have very different social context than I do so some of the things I might talk about or be interested in or whatever might be incomprehensible and / or downright offensive to them. Having to put the checkreins on my personality to prevent family arguments is hard enough without having to redouble my efforts in the face of a huge generation gap. I don't consider myself ageist or anything (at least I hope I don't come across that way), but it's a consideration. I don't think devout Christian Auntie Vi would be particularly impressed to hear me talking about Mithras rituals or what have you. I can't even talk about what I write half the time, just in case. It's a pain, but there you go.