Monday 29 March 2010

Z's having a bad day, which continues to get worse.

Things aren't going too well.  In several directions, they are all ganging up.  Nothing I can mention here, so discretion must reign, with the acknowledgement that I've had a couple of glasses of wine already and I will certainly, certainly have another before the evening is done.  I won't finish the bottle though, as I'm just so damn sensible.

Sorry if I haven't answered your email yet, I really am, but I'm already badly slipping behind with other things.  I'm fairly free tomorrow (that is, no meetings or appointments) but I've got an awful lot to do tonight, so I just can't write to people I actually want to.  I'll just say that Tilly is fine, she and I have just had a lovely cuddle and she shows no sign of ill health - and yes, pee is a good indicator and I have (for I am more than half dog) sniffed hers to check.

If I didn't know me so well, I'd hardly believe that I've done that.  As it is, I just can hardly believe that I've admitted it in public.

Funny - I feel very stressed, but at the same time I'm not taking it personally.  It won't keep me awake because it doesn't touch me or the family.  But all the same, I'm feeling several separate big weights on my teeny little shoulders.

Wah.  A lot of emails to write.  Asking or telling or acknowledging appreciatively or reassuring.  One may have bad news - though not personal.  I have to apologise, because I'm double-booked in three weeks time and I have to extricate myself from something I've offered to do. I'm very sorry about that, though I didn't know they clashed at the time.

There was a sort of vague insinuation, in Another Place, that I don't file things logically.  That's not so, not at all, and I have no idea how the idea has got about.  None at all.  I file things logically when it matters and when I get around to it, and in the meantime, I have piles of things, stacked according to whether they are waiting to be put away or waiting to be dealt with.  Whenever possible, I get documents emailed to me so that I don't have to keep paper copies at all.

I had a filing cabinet and hated it.  I like box files and document wallets and stackable plastic boxes to contain them.  When I get some papers, I either put them on my desk or on the printer to be dealt with that day or very soon, or I put them in the plastic box ready for filing when I get round to it.  In each place, file, wallet or box, papers might or might not be in order, but it doesn't really matter because they are in discretely contained places.  There's no great problem, if you've fished a piece of paper out of the middle of a box file and shoved it back on top, of finding its order again.  If, for a few weeks, the papers stack up a bit, it's still no real problem, because in that case they're in chronological order and I have a good idea of when something arrived, so whereabouts it should be.

Perfectly sensible, logical and efficient, if not terribly organised.  Works for me, anyway.

Yeah.  Had the email with the expected bad news, though not for the person concerned.  I've written to acknowledge, and now have to write to said person in sincerely warm and friendly manner.

I'd stop the clocks and wind them back about 25 hours, but that would only mean I'd have to go through it all over again.

No point hanging about any longer, time to get back to work.  In my favourite quote from lovely John Ebdon - if you have been, thanks for listening.

16 comments:

luckyzmom said...

You're welcome. Thanks for sharing.

Z said...

It's raining, too.

Anonymous said...

You could have some hail or an earthquake!

Z said...

Oh thanks, Mago. I feel better now.

Anonymous said...

Always a pleasure.

Dandelion said...

Sounds perfectly logical to me.

Ooh, but d'you remember that time that you couldn't find something? Of course, the exception proves the rule...

Hope the stress makes way for fairer weather soon x

lom said...

I am listening

Dave said...

Yes, I was going to mention what Dandy said. I think you mentioned yesterday that you'd managed to misfile a tray, so what chance does a sheet of paper have?

I'm sure you've mentioned in the past that you haven't instantly been able to lay your hands on some piece of paper or another. Still, knowing they are somewhere in the house is a system.

Each to their own.

Z said...

I do often feel rather judged by you two, Dand and Dave. You might noticed, in the repetition "not at all ... none at all" that my tongue was well in my cheek.

Thanks darlings, I got the emails done last night, so slept soundly.

Dave said...

Oh dear, I rather thought my comment sounded a bit judgemental, but as I said, each to their own, and whilst what suits you would drive me mad, I suspect my level of fussyness would rather bore you.

Z said...

Oh no, darling, I wouldn't mind at all. Astonish, perhaps, but not bore.

Dandelion said...

Dear z, I'm so sorry if you feel judged. I was being serious when I said it sounds perfectly logical to me. It does. And please know that I'm well aware that I live in a very glass house - judging one of my dearest blog-friends couldn't be further from my intention, especially on the filing front :-)
xxx

Christopher said...

John Ebdon? I thought I was the only person in the whole wide world who'd ever heard of him, let alone worship at his shrine! Tell me more...

Sarah said...

Well you are one step further along the organised trail than me! and actualy Don't really mind that I am so unorganised. Perhaps I need Dave to tidy my drawers.

Zig said...

sounds like you have it all under control, Monday was a bad day, perhaps it was globally?

Here's to Wednesday, and perhaps April :)

Z said...

Oh darling, I shouldn't have said 'often". And it's not as if I mind, I'm always the butt of the jokes (even in real life) and I must say I do play up to it. I enjoy being a bit chaotic and I'd drive Dave round the bend if he lived here. Actually, it would be brilliant as he wouldn't be able to resist sorting things out and I'd gaze in admiration. It's not as if he'd throw useful things out and worry me, either.

Oh Christopher, me too. One of the thrills of my entire life was when, shortly after his much-lamented retirement from the BBC, I took my children to the Planetarium and recognised his voice doing the commentary. I didn't know he was a director there.

I'm not sure I'd dare invite Dave to rummage in my drawers, Sarah, in case the contents shocked him. But then, he is a man of the world, after all.

Oh, he's a man of the cloth. Hm. Does that work the same way?

I'm looking forward to Friday, Zig. I know that's not the 1st, but it's when things will start to go swimmingly. DV, of course, as ever.