Slow

Today I had toast and Jello.

"Dry toast is not tasty," I wrote to Friend.

"Put jelly on it," she said after commenting about her head hurting from rolling her eyes at me.

"I did not have jelly," I defended my choice.

"Use Jello," she replied after a moment.

"Oh," I said, thinking very hard. "Would that even work? I don't think that would work."

"Jelly = fruit + gelatin," she explained. "Jello = fake fruit + gelatin."

"Oh," I said and conceded she might have a point.

Though I was even slower than normal today, I did manage to do some work. I answered email. I took two phone calls, both of which required me to present a good deal of data to an audience I was meant to impress. The first call went stunningly well, but left me shaking with the need for additional Tylenol by the end of the 90 minute conversation.

Prior to the second meeting, Adam called. We discussed my health and I graciously accepted his offers of sympathy and well wishes. He covered a few points I've missed during my days of misery and I stopped him when he reached the one of interest/worry.

"Do you know something? What do you know?" I demanded. He laughed at me before outlining the situation.

"So," I said after thinking for a moment, "this means that I get to keep working for you. But I still have to do A+B rather than just B."

"Now would I ever fire someone so smart?" he teased. "That's pretty much it - you're doing great. I'm very pleased with you. But you are unlikely to get help with the role," he noted.

"I can do it," I offered after a moment and smiled when he noted I already was. I replaced the phone in the cradle, thinking that had things worked out differently, I'd be somewhere other than in my darkened basement, preparing to present material to an Ivy League institution. Had I not pushed so hard for an offer, I would have ended up lost in the hiring freeze. Had Adam hired someone for A in addition to me for B, I'd currently be in a much more precarious position.

"Safe, but stressed," I summarized and Chienne huffed grumpily when my voice disturbed her nap. I turned to smooth Sprout's coat when he came closer and looked for understanding from the unhappy, stripey creature.

"Like getting to go outside whenever you want, but never catching anything," I explained, pulling my hand away when he twisted to bite me. The lack of good hunting has him ready to attack - I have wounds to prove it.

I do like my job. I'm also fond of my house and car. So I'm relieved. Happy. Just a little slow.