News on the Home Front, Crazy Land Avoidance

I think it says something that I've been reduced to taking tests on The Blue Pyramid. And that I seem to be out of the loop in Crazy Land.

Loathsome is back on the project, so I haven't had to try to avoid him. Nonetheless, I'm in my office, avoiding everyone. As if I ever truly seek anyone out. What would be the point of that, other than to irritate me or amuse you?

I need to get some water, but I hear someone at the copier near the water cooler. I'm not going out there. I'll just die of dehydration, thanks.

I don't think I can continue on like this until the test in August. Or maybe I can. It's worth a shot.

The big news is on the home front. Hubby has officially been furloughed from his job as a Tax Examiner at the IRS. Here's how you know it's a government job: They can still fire him. Yes, they can call him up at home (within the next couple of weeks, I think) and terminate his ass. I'd make some snotty comment, but I'm dumbfounded. You'll have to think of your own.

Hubby now has to find another job. Soon. The job search just started and it's already making me crazy. He believes that (iffy) job experience from 20 years ago is viable in the job market. He hopes to make a great salary. Well, I'd like that, too, but I'm grounded in reality. Hubby hasn't been in the traditional job market in so long that it's impossible for him to be pragmatic about it. Guess who has to help him?

Hubby is constitutionally unable to do anything without my help. On Wednesday, he was going to make burgers on my little George Foreman grilling machine. I was wiped out and hanging out on the sofa, attempting to recuperate from my day at Crazy Land.

A couple of minutes after he disappeared into the kitchen, I heard the drawers and cabinets being opened and closed. He couldn't find something. Sigh. I went into the kitchen and asked him what he was searching for. A crucial implement. Unfortunately, Hubby was the last person who used the teflon safe spatula, so I had absolutely no idea where it might be. For all I knew, he might have taken it upstairs to that black hole we call his office. Don't think I haven't found equally weird things up there. I can't tell you how many pieces of silverware I've stumbled across. Wood cleaner that I know he hasn't a clue how to use. We've lost at least two hammers in his office. They've been missing for several years.

Hubby could tell I was annoyed. He told me to go sit down. I did. Then there was silence. I read a couple of pages in my current book and noted there still wasn't a sound emanating from the kitchen. I went back to find him standing in the middle of the kitchen. Standing there. As if the spatula might magically spring out of its hiding place on the strength of his personal magnetism alone.

I started looking for it, even more annoyed than the last time. I found it in the first cabinet I opened. Yes, I suppose he does get some credit for not having taken it upstairs. Not much, though.