Caterwauling

The “Cameras Always On” rule was reiterated. Not that I have EVER deviated from it.

I am dutiful so that my staff, who work through meetings or, I dunno, breastfeed and pick up kids from daycare, can do that in peace.

DTOM’s camera is always on. But finally after three years of seeing this person’s “O” face on the elliptical, it’s finally been hinted at.

They got special dispensation to have the camera off. Though I doubt the televised stomps stop. Their entire raison d’être is to seek attention.

Out of the same memo came an interesting declaration that summer’s over. That was July 15. The follow up sentence was that it’s time to grind so hope you got summer out of your systems.

Um. Yeah, about that.

My staff and I are still taking PTO rollover. That benefit was only launched last year, and it was BECAUSE we’re too busy to take time off.

Look, I’m not saying I work a full 40 hours every week. And when I do it’s more like 60. And at least half of them are before 8 a.m. because I have 20 hours of calls a week. Seriously, sometimes I do my 20 calls and 20 urgent projects and put my hand in the fuck it bucket. Still doesn’t give me enough time for a day off.

In fact, I just put in for a day off — Halloween — using PTO rollover. Meaning, I haven’t touched the five weeks available to me for 2025 … by Halloween.

There was another comment I heard privately too. I was trying to be nice and make conversation and get someone to bond with me. And basically I just got an “I don’t believe in a work-life balance.”

I shut up. Like Goddess you are not going to say anything that is going to make this moment any better.

You know, I have recently been going through emails and texts with Momma. Because I miss her.

You know what the overarching theme is?

Momma asking me to come home not early … not on time … but not SO late.

A thousand, “I made something good for supper. Can you put down the work and come eat while it’s hot?”

Most of these messages were when I worked an hour or a half-hour away.

But there were quite a few texts that came from the other room when I was working from home.

She always said she hoped I figured out that I needed work-life balance while she was still healthy enough to enjoy some time with me.

I didn’t.

This note telling Tracey to give up her family time hit hard.

We are legally forbidden from talking about all the bad shit she did. But yeah while I was busting ass, she was stealing.

And my Mike … and a bunch of others … lost their jobs because of that.

I still think about that. If he weren’t so embarrassed at being broke and unable to find another job, would we have been married with a kid by now.

I would probably have never had my own Coldplay moment.

Or maybe I would. Who knows.

Anyway. Hope T choked on her AquaNet.

Look, I’m too old to have my morale (too) affected by people who hold worldviews I don’t agree with anymore.

No balance WAS my worldview. I absolutely didn’t need it. I liked the work and the money.

And Momma was only 16 years older than me. We should have had way more time to live well.

And I am actually deeply ashamed that my balance — which BY THE WAY I worked over 30 years to obtain — is work and vegetating and worrying about work and vegetating and finally jamming on the work.

But guess what? It’s days like July 15 that make a lot of people say hey, you do you. I’ll do me somewhere else.

I just wish DTOM was one of them.

Not me over here minding my own business.

Just being equal parts exalted and exhausted from another amazing NYC trip.

When I hear from a professional lurker about one of my professional lurkers.

Apparently Chin-dy is feeling superior because she rented a … *checks texts* … MOTORIZED scooter rather than rent a pedicab, as I did.

Well first of all, thank you for paying such close attention. I feel so loved!

And second of all, not that I owe anyone anything, least of all that wretch, but it was a hop-on, hop-off ride to a list of sites I wanted to see in Central Park and the Upper East Side.

So, I created a job, tipped heavily, stimulated the economy at Laduree, and hoisted my ass in/out of a carriage.

But hey, a scooter is similar enough, I guess.

One of my people had a birthday the other day.

She asked if I wanted to grab drinks.

I said I’ll pick the place.

I picked Epcot.

She used to work there and her husband gave up his annual pass but she didn’t. It was a good thing.

And I managed to score a very hard to get reservation at Geo-82 that opened a couple weeks ago.

When we got there, she checked in with her husband.

I told her the hardest thing about losing Momma is also the weirdest thing.

I used to text her the whole way to a place, “take her with me” through it and then let her know when I was coming home.

Now? I don’t even think about that anymore.

I finally lost that “pull” to want to tell someone I made it to my destination safely.

I mean, there’s social media when I want to leave crumbs.

But how do I leave crumbs when I don’t have someone clued in to my whereabouts?

So my last cat sitter quit and I just did a trial run with a new one. I loved the first but I think I like this one even better.

I type that to say I wasn’t nervous about my next trip till Habanero Hitler bombed Iran.

Like, the last time we were in a scuffle with an “I” nation, where did they attack? Eggzactly.

I almost wonder if I shouldn’t go full paranoia and tell the cat sitter what to do in case of THAT emergency.

Maybe I better give my cousin my Rover login since the only other key in existence to my house is w a girl whose last name I don’t know.