The Return in Review

Well, she's back. She ambled in lazily this morning, ubiquitous daughter in-tow, 20 minutes late. She brought gifts from her travels to the Supervisor. Nothing for me.
[Yep, I cried for hours. Hours! Not.]

I would say it's weird having her back, but it isn't. Things are very much back to "normal" here. She's still wearing her ill-fitting capri pants and bending at the waist in them, displaying her middleaged wedgie'd cheeks to the world when picking up a pen that has unfortunately fallen to the floor. She's still disappearing for chunks of time to go to who-knows-where, and she's still gushing over the interns like they're her other children. (I guess smothering her two biological kids isn't enough?)

So, yeah, my summertime blues are back. She won't go away for another whole week until next July. Until then, it will be special flexible hours and times off for her, you know, so she can truck her kids all over the place in her hybrid. She'll be going on and on with her yammering on about dance lessons she still drives her college-age child to, doctors visits (with full disclosure about her many ailments and health-related paranoid scenarios), and calls to and from The Husband. You know, the guy who has a PhD but can't make a phone call for himself? Yeah, that guy.

I am very thankful to have a job in this sh*tty economy, but man, the grass is always greener... At least I get one week out of 52 with the sweet silence that is her vacation.