The Emotional Relief of Modern Technology

Today started off with a pretty serious shocker, and I turned around from it, went in to my office, picked up my laptop (after calling the facilities guy to unlock my drawer, for which I had left the key in my other bag ... yes, I have become my mother ...), went back home, and worked from here.  One of my friends there, knowing only that "I just can't be there right now" did the most amazing thing.

She sent me flowers.

The delivery guy was so nice - I was clearly bewildered, and he said, so encouragingly:  "Someone wants you to be happy."  What a job that must be, some days.

It is not lost on me, to be sure, how amazing a job I have - and what great coworkers - that a day I feel I can't face them, they still want to show me they're with me in such a remarkably sweet way.

I stuck an old reliable in the DVD this morning - a bit of Hestonian "Commandments" as a background there need be no danger of my actually watching while sifting emails and making some calls - and slumped away the day.  Having put together an outfit which even before the morning's reversal had me dithering over possible different tops (I *never* do this - I set out clothes the night before a workday, and even if I"m dissatisfied the next day I usually just grin and bear a miscalculation), I worked in my work clothes for a good while before shifting into dog-walking pants.

Having topped off the workday meeting mom for dinner, and wandered around "shopping" (very much not buying) for a bit, I've come home and spent $78 on needful things to put in the Delicates drawer, another $33.97 on dog walking pants, and have finally decided that Poirot is the right entertainment for me for this evening.  A light dab of tidy little murder, just the thing for a confused mind.

And David Suchet's intricately, impossibly tidy little waxed mustache.  Impeccable and no invitation to emotional involvement.  Perfect stuff.

And so I must watch.  Bon nuit.