I will not be working tomorrow. I’m going to see some special doctors. Drs. Alice and Chris are in town. I always appreciate their consults, but what I really need now is a mental health day or two. Work is driving me crazy. I shouldn’t let it, especially with almost 38 years of service, but I can’t help myself. I guess that I’ve become too conditioned. Anne says that I should stop here, because none of you are briefed, but that’s not strictly true. She actually thinks that I should be more concerned with those of you that are than those that aren’t.

I got a new boss at the beginning of the year and to say that he is hard to read is an understatement. Lately, he has been slow-rolling-out his organization. Every week more names populate his once empty org-chart boxes. Mine is not among them, leaving me and the dwindling few to wonder, “Is this like little league and am I going to be picked last again?”

Late today, we had a meeting. Included were my boss, his de facto boss and my possible future boss. Also in attendance was me and the last two other people who are still left thinking outside a box. Even though we prosecuted the meeting without comment, it was a strange dynamic. I am not as concerned about myself as I am about my two other colleagues without portfolio. They both have small children and need to work for many years to come. For myself, my eldest son just turned thirty this week.

Work has affected my sleep. Yesterday, was Election Day and Anne worked the polls as a precinct supervisor. She got up ungodly early and I could not get back to sleep afterwards. I was just dozing off, when the police/fire sirens erupted, another accident on 40. I got up to see if Anne had left or not and fortunately she was still in the house. I must have slept, because I dreamed that my cubical had been turned into an Easter crucifixion diorama. In my dream, I couldn’t find another place to sit, even though in real life there are plenty of empty cubes. The night before my dream was also work related. I found myself in a lifeboat with my boss. It was one of those enclosed lifeboats that can be capsized, but still remain afloat. Our lifeboat was plunged deep underwater by a big wave. I popped the escape hatch and with water rushing in, just before exiting, I turned, grabbed my boss’s hand, pushed off and then kicked us to the surface. When we reached it, it was a beach day at the cabin. The lifeboat was even beached intact down the shore. All you amateur psychiatrists, feel free to weigh in now.

Let’s not let this post be all about my work, because Anne got a job offer today. It was from Kelly Services. It is for the next school year, but come fall she will become a “Kelly Girl”. The school district is outsourcing its substitutes. In the good news column, she will again be able to work full-time, because of Obamacare the school district has limited her hours to less than thirty per week this year. She will get health insurance, 401K, training (Special High Intensity Training) and the opportunity to work the summer …