And because it deserves its own post:

{{{{{{{Amy}}}}}}}

I'd be very very tempted to blow it all out into the open. But I don't work in that kind of toxic clusterfuck.

So the roofers found a rusty metal shovel on the roof. Huh. It had to have been left there from when they roofed it 2 years ago, cause it ain't mine. And I did find one in the big storms in 2010, but I threw that one off the roof. So 2 shovels. I need to call them back, because if they are trying to put this on me, seriously not happening.

Anyway, my roof allegedly no longer will leak (repaired in a couple places,) and I met with the gutter guy to get a new downspout and catcher.

And it occurs to me that my home warranty might cover fixing the ceiling inside. Need to investigate.

Looks like I might be swimming farther than I thought usually. I got to lap 54 tonight, the counter had me at 56. And the times bear that out. I guess I get stuck on a lap number now and then. Last night it was 57. Oops, I can't count?

I'd be very very tempted to blow it all out into the open.

Yeah, but it's all really minor. It takes years of exposure to realize what she's doing.

For instance, I asked her today about the status of a project, and she admitted that she was in contact with X agency. I asked who was our point of contact there, and her response was "I will be working with Jeff and Lucy".

Notice the pronoun--even though I'm the program manager, I'm not a participant in her coordination with external agencies. She's marking her territory.

Which means I will be forced to reply, "That's great! Please cc me on your correspondence with them so we'll all be up to speed on what's going on." This makes me look like a bitch (because of course she'd cc me! Even though she never ever does) and a micro-manager.

Regardless, she won't cc me on her conversations with other agencies. I never know what she's doing, if anything, and that's on purpose. If nobody knows what she's doing, she can say whatever she likes about the status of her work and nobody can question it.

Oh Amy, I'm so sorry. Lots of thoughts and prayers headed out to your family.

And {{Amy}}. I'm so sorry.

Amy, much love going out to you and your family. I'm so sorry.

Amy, I'm sorry.

In stupid work news, I hadn't heard back from someone who's notorious for not getting back, so I got a wee bit snippy in my email, and....she wrote back that she had been out of the office because her husband had emergency surgery. Oops.

Thanks, everyone.

I think the weirdest thing for me was that I had just written "Mimi!" on my to-do list for the day when my mom called (as in I was planning to go sit with her for a while -- she hadn't been alert enough to speak or acknowledge anyone for days). And then as I was leaving the nursing home, "Welcome to the Black Parade" had just started.

The staff there are just incredible, though. Mimi was there seven years, and so many of the staff have been with her the whole time, and loved her like one of their own family.

Consuela, how absolutely atrocious. I don't even know what to say.