So, a few years ago, a very serious series of events happened between a colleague and me. I thought lunch would be lunch and lunch turned into a very horrible afternoon. In the end, I lost a bit of reputation, however wrongly, and said person spread a lie that it was me that was after him, which was ridiculous.
This past week, the person I saw that afternoon, the person behind the mask, committed his final curtain call as far as his employer was concerned. Since his employer is one of my clients, I’ve spent the day rushing around, getting locks changed and doing everything I can to prevent an electronic retaliatory action he may decide to make over the weekend, once he finally has access to a computer. I have to say, Constant Contact was sympathetic and quick to respond to our issue.
The problem was that this particular person was incredibly controlling and kept a lot of passwords that he should not have had secret, and that also included the password recovery questions. Everything has been changed over to the President of the organization. So, in the end, even if this day was a total chaotic mess and the President had to make a difficult decision she did not want to make, the good that comes out of it is that she is, finally, in control of all of the correspondence, especially electronic that may leave the office.
…And considering how the former colleague has been behaving especially this past few months or so, I’m glad to finally come out ahead with my reputation repaired from that horrible afternoon, and in fact, that horrible afternoon and the President of the organization’s handling of it, helped put her in a better spot after the events of this week.
Now, I have to prepare to go to my parent’s country home tomorrow, with Lexi in tow. I was looking forward to it until my Mom turned into critical Mom on Mother’s Day. However, evil sister who has been guilting me and saying that she’s “been taking care of Mom for Dad” these past weekends (every other weekend), when informed by our Dad that I would be going up there on Saturday, told him that she would be driving up tonight. So, completely afraid of the ambush that awaits, because she will try to start a fight and it WILL be in front of my Mom and it will be done in such a way as to attempt to make me look as bad as possible and on top of all of that? My Mom will make me apologize no matter how the fight comes out, at least she has in the past, because she tells me that I have the better heart so I should use it.
However, I’m encouraged by the fact that when I called to officially wish my Mom happy birthday this evening (I waited because I wanted to talk to my Dad about my sister’s announcement to him and get his opinion) that she warned me that my sister would be there… To which I told her I had the plans scheduled before my sister did.
…and if my sister uses the whole, “well, I’ve been taking care of Mom” guilt trip BS on me again, I’m going to say, but Donya? You didn’t have to come up here this weekend, and you knew full well that you didn’t.
Also? My Dad told me which plant my Mom wants. Score!! Gonna be the favourite daughter with the better present. (Yes, I’m doing the cabbage patch… please don’t judge me.) Juvenile, I know, but since my sister’s whole big thing is to try and make herself look like the better daughter by pulling this crap, and my Dad can see it and doesn’t like how she’s been treating a fair few people, I’m getting helpful inside information.
So tired already. Good thing, though, Lexi should be extremely exhausted on our way home tomorrow.
I’ve been going down to Galveston to watch the sunrise on my birthday, on and off, for the past six years. (Mostly on, by the way.) I always intend to really write about it, but when I get down there, I’m always in awe of watching the smallest sliver of a hint of red start getting redder and then orange, and then yellow, as the Earth’s rotation turns, and so, even with the best of intentions and notebooks at hand, in previous years I haven’t ever been able to get my thoughts down on paper about the event or the previous year.
This year, however, the sun was being a persnickety bitch. I didn’t see her until she was a fully formed orb, already yellow, and slowly peeking out from a cloud - not the horizon line. It was, as if she was in collusion with the universe, in telling me, “wait ‘til you see what I have in store for you this year…”