Ah, Monday. After a weekend spent attending spring carnivals, toting a dog to the vet, waving palm fronds, and watching jousts at renaissance faires, I was ready for a relaxing time at work. Alas. Here's Monday:
1. Arrive to an irate email (cc'd to the freaking UNIVERSE) from an equally irate academic who insists that said academic's changes to a piece I wrote were not included.
2. Email back (somewhat snippily, and also cc'd to the freaking UNIVERSE) with attached document wherein academic's changes are marked, note that said changes were incorporated. Excise contested content and inform academic that ball is now in academic's court.
3. Get dragged into strange internecine departmental strife in one of the colleges, because a reporter had the temerity to call looking for an expert. Unsurprisingly, nothing is solved, the reporter is frustrated, and it's all my office's fault. Or something.
4. Realize that researcher with seriously big deal research coming out soon--which entails me coordinating with 2 other research institutions, a major journal, and a government funding agency--has not gotten me the promised changes to a release that has to go, AND that said researcher is now halfway across the globe, scheduled to return about 1 day before the embargoes lift.
5. The dog, who spent Saturday puking and receiving emergency fluids at the vet, is still not eating.
6. Find out that fun quirky research originally scheduled to be announced in May is actually being announced in 3 days, and we need a release for that.
7. Receive yet more changes from original academic who was complaining about changes--2 days after article was released.
8. Get another phone call from different reporter wanting the same expert who was involved in the earlier internecine academic douchebaggery.
9. Vow to start choking bitches from the Dean level downward.
10. Dog still not eating--now with Non-Drinking Action and a bit o' puke!
Tuesday -
11. More changes from academic A. The piece is no longer even available on the web. What. Ever.
12. Dog not eating. Not drinking.
13. Oops! Forgot that I had content for a web page due!
14. Vet wants to see dog. Grab crap for web page, decide to work from home.
15. Big deal researcher still AWOL. Other participants growing antsy.
16. Turns out latest version of big deal researcher's release isn't really the right version anyway. Vow to start choking self if the day does not end now.
17. Dog goes to vet for bloodwork, I.V. fluids and medication, and x-ray.
18. Oh, look! Email from another reporter wanting the same expert from the College of Academic Douchebaggery.
19. Vet wants to keep dog overnight. Promises to call after hours to discuss bloodwork results.
20. Miss Boy's T-ball practice while waiting for vet to call. He gets home from practice; guess what? Vet calls!
21. Turns out vet's treatment for dog's Cushing's disease has resulted in massive kidney damage and extended hospital stay that will probably wind up in euthanasia anyway, but what's another thousand bucks, right?
22. Go for relaxing walk, twist ankle.
23. Drink wine. A LOT of wine.
Wednesday
24. Arrive to find academic with quirky research waiting outside office, along with colleagues brandishing news articles concerning College of Academic Douchebaggery.
25. Guzzle coffee, force quirky research guy to come way, way down so that regular folks (like me, before I've had my coffee) can understand research.
26. Go to another meeting with a different academic about completely different research.
27. Email AWOL big deal researcher--wonder if 3rd world has good cell phone reception.
28. Coordinate more reporters with same expert. Giggle evilly to self the entire time.
29. Schedule more meetings, attempt to juggle random politics, crazy academics, and antsy reps from universities and government agencies while writing press release about research I just. don't. get.
30. Vow to choke next person who talks to me before Friday, I swear to God.
Posted by Big Arm Woman at April 4, 2007 12:21 PM
Sorry about the dog. One of the unsatisfactory things about life is that dogs don't live as long as people, so you go through a number of them, each time to pick up more or less where you left off.
We put Annie down exactly one year ago, for kidney failure, one day after the not-drinking phase began ; Vicki, born April 6, came home 8 weeks later.
I start calling around right away, so it doesn't take as long as the first time.
Ron -
Thanks. I think we may take a canine break for a while--at this point in my life I don't really have the time to properly take care of/train/exercise/clean up after a puppy.
Maybe when The Boy is older and can assume those duties himself, we'll revisit it.
The cat is going to be depressed for a while, I think.
Posted by: BAW at April 5, 2007 10:45 AMReally sorry to hear about the dog. It's really hard to lose a pet, and I hope your son doesn't take it too hard.
