I am trying to teach Puppy E that it is unnecessary to scream bloody blue murder while I prepare his breakfast in order to ensure that I do not forget, once it is prepared, to deliver it to his house. So far I am not successful in this endeavour. In fact the screaming seems to be escalating. This morning we engaged in an hour long standoff while Puppy E screamed and I ignored him and pretended not to hear him in hopes that he would soon be quiet and I could deliver his breakfast. Instead he screamed louder and longer and hurled himself at the sides of his house. Puppy E is a man who likes to eat.
I forced myself out of bed early this morning in spite of not having fallen asleep until after 2:00am. I am trying to twist my schedule in time for Friday's interview such that when it is necessary to wake at 4:00am to catch a 6:00am flight, I will have previously enjoyed at least six hours of sleep.
Belonging to the other side of Shawn's family feels a bit like what I imagine it might be like to belong to The Mob. Shawn's stepmother would not tolerate our realtor not returning our phone calls immediately and phoned him at his summer cottage to make sure he understood that we were waiting. He called back sheepish and apologetic. She could not believe the price that the roofer was quoting us for a new roof and put us in touch with a friend of hers who roofs for a living and forced him into offering a price she approved of. When Shawn suggested that we could give away the old appliances or take them to the EcoStation, she said that was nonsense and she would sell them for us. Upon hearing of my upcoming interview she went to work connecting with family members who work for the Board so she could acquire the list of interview questions for me to study from. And on it goes. I think that having her on the right side can be extremely beneficial but I am suddenly frightened of what she might do if she ever decides she doesn't like us after all.
I woke to find a message from the client I've been working with asking me to phone him as he would like to offer some suggestions about the script I've been working on. I am feeling very reluctant to talk to him right now as the coffee hasn't really taken full effect at this point. And yet, the longer I delay this the more time the dread will have to build. I dislike social interaction to a point that it's truly odd. I have often said that if it weren't for having a job, I would become so filled with social anxiety angst that I would end up refusing to set foot outside. And so in spite of disliking talking to people, I'm glad that I am forced to do it enough that it remains possible. Socializing, for me, is the same as exercising. It's something I don't want to do when I imagine it and prepare for it and think about it, but when it's actually happening, it's never so bad, and sometimes it's even enjoyable.
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I called. It wasn't bad at all. He pointed out a couple of typos and chatted and joked with me a little. He's a nice man. I don't know what's wrong with me.
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