I've made it a point over the years that I have been cataloging our daily (ok, so lately more like monthly) lives to not speak overmuch about work. Partly because how many of you REALLY care about my work life, and partly in an effort not get dooced. Im breaking my silence because right now our stresses over my work ARE our life, mostly. My company (name withheld to protect the innocent, namely, ME) creates a product that has recently sort of been made obsolete by new guidelines distributed by an industry group (not official, legal, etc, just a group of industry leaders trying to lead the industry). In discussions with various folks it has been revealed that there may be lay offs (sorry to be so vague folks, see above re: doocing). This morning that "maybe" became a "trying to avoid" which says to me "imminent". I have no idea if I would be one of those laid off (although there really are only 3 of us who are potentials), what if any kind of severance package I would receive, etc., but the fact that we live off of my income is making me quite quite worried about the whole thing. Please pray for us?
In other news, we came home from running errands in a downpour last night and found that the downpour was in the kitchen, too. Apparently one of the branches that fell during the wind storms over the last couple of months has gouged a hole in the shingles and/or leaf buildup has wedged them. We can't tell until it stops raining enough for Hubband to get up on the roof without worrying about sliding off in the mud. For the moment, there is a bucket in the attic that is collecting drips and a section of drywall in the kitchen ceiling that needs to be replaced.
Further kitchen news that just made my day... apparently there was a gnat frat party last night. They seem to have gotten drunk on the red wine in my red wine vinegar (who knows HOW they got in the bottle) and then drowned in the vinegar while they were unconcious. So far, the gnat police haven't charged me with anything (willful distribution of red wine vinegar to buggy minors?)--I'll keep you posted.
And now, the queen of the 40 minute nap has struck again and I need to go and get her majesty out of jail. Farewell.