Oh, hey, for those who were following my office drama on Friday...

Chief Op Officer (subject of the fateful fax) resigned yesterday. Effective 10/31. He and CrazyCEO (author of the fateful fax) apparently called a meeting at like 6 pm yesterday which, according to my boss, was twenty excruciating minutes of "Mommy and Daddy still love each other very very much, but they're not going to be living together anymore. But they still love you and it's not your fault. Sometimes people just grow apart."

Then COO put his hand on CrazyCEO's arm and CEO visibly cringed.

Then COO put his hand on CrazyCEO's arm and CEO visibly cringed.

Heh.

I shouldn't be amused, should I?

I'm laughing my ass off, so don't hold back on my account.

Going to be interesting for a while, though, I'll tell ya.

(Also, COO called my Minion in for a separate meeting to reassure him it wasn't his fault. Which is nice, considering. Futile, and likely counterproductive, but nice.)

Wow.

Who needs tv when you've got your office?

Who needs tv when you've got your office?

Ah, I sort of miss office drama. OK, not that much.

I see the Unit is tackling the issue of payday loan places' outrageous interest rates and military families.

No shit. If our former-former-soon-to-be-another-former COO is any example, though, it's even funnier at one remove. You know, when your livelihood no longer depends on these asylum escapees. He couldn't even talk, he was laughing so hard.

Dog in Elk!!!!

That and the whole root thing remind me that elements of this crew get me closer to trouble than anywhere else.

That and mom jokingly bringing up my knocked up cousin at 45 in reference to me not having any. Choked on a laugh and a drink of water and it was...bad. Mom knows I'll 99% likely not have kids. She's ok with that. There's no pressure. But when she does pretend pressure, I crack up. This came at an inopportune time. Luckily, we'd been talking for a bit already. And she established I wasn't about to drown.

Heh.

When the word "grand-dog" first came out of my mother's mouth, I knew I was in the clear. Not that I was concerned - my mom wasn't the type to pressure on that sort of thing - but still.

I kinda am weird about the idea of grandcats, which thankfully my parents don't do. I can't equate kids with pets.

But with my brother and SIL expecting their unexpected second, these issues come to the fore. Honestly, mom still thinks of the 1% chance with me. Not pressure, just curiosity and because we're so close, I think she wants our closeness (which is that of parent+kid+ adulthood= friends with history) to be repeated in me and a kid. My 1% is much more unlikely than hers, to be nice. I've talked to her about this. I'd be fine being a mom. But I'm as fine, if not finer, not being one. It'd take a fair amount of other elements to convince me.

I kinda am weird about the idea of grandcats, which thankfully my parents don't do. I can't equate kids with pets.

Oh, hell yeah, I would never have even thought up the word, it shocked me to hear my mother use it. And she was about the least sentimental person in that sense - it wasn't remotely meant...literally, I was about to say, but duh.

But my point, if I have one, was that yeah, it wasn't equating dog-kid in any way, so much as an acknowlegement that if she was waiting for me to pass on her genes...well, there was a lot more hair and longer nails and teeth in her family than she'd realized.