Where DID I put my tiara?

I texted my sister to ask, and she said they'd just got there at about 2:30. I'll stop by on my way home.

No doubt, mother is still in full-blown freakout mode. She's been in a tail-winding spin since dad signed his release papers on Monday.

My poor sister is staying with them for a few days, since she's not working at the moment and can be with dad all day. But I know mother is going to drive her stark, raving bonkers. She was totally stressed last night, and that's just from spending half a day with mother. Living at their house again? Lord...

But she needs to be there, to fend mother off. Mom is obsessed with dad not being an invalid (and not being old, even though his 82 birthday is less than two weeks ago). She keeps cornering us to whisper that "we need to help daddy keep his spirits up."

Well daddy wouldn't need his spirits kept up if mother would chill out and quit harping about everything.

And he'll recover a lot faster if she'll STFU and let him use the walker and toilet booster and oxygen tank in peace until he's feeling better.

I was just flipping through a copy of InStyle magazine, looking for their cover article, "Cute Outfits for Every Body Shape."

As usual, what they really meant was "Cute Outfits for Every Body Shape Except Yours."

The choices were:

A. Pear shaped
B. Petite
C. Full-figured
D. Busty
E. Mom-to-Be

My body shape is F. None of the above. Not even close.

Grr.

...of jobs I wouldn't do if you paid me a brazillion dollars.

I took the bus from my office to the car dealership this afternoon to get my car from the shop, and at one of the stops, this idiot with his girl and their baby got on the bus. He started in the minute he got on about how he was going to smoke on this bus and he didn't give a damn and the bus driver could throw him off if he wanted to and on and on and on. His girlfriend kept telling him to shut up and he kept on blathering.

He didn't stop talking the entire time he was on the bus, and it was the same idiotic ramblings about how he liked violence and he wasn't afraid to fight and he wasn't going to move so someone could sit in the seat next to him and how he was going to be a millionaire by the time he was 30 and how he had all these records in his head waiting to be recorded and blah blah blah.

He must have been on something, but I'm not sure what. I thought pot made you laid back and calm, but he was sure talking tough. Unless it was bluster. And I don't think it was alcohol because he wasn't slurring his speech. He was just being a jackass. I was afraid he was going to have a confrontation with the driver, but I guess the driver figured out he was just talking shit and wouldn't really try anything.

I feel sorry for the girlfriend (for hooking up with such a loser) and especially for the baby. The mom obviously adored the kid, so that was good, but nothing good will come out of having that dipwad for a father.

It's my favorite (not) time of the year...corporate holiday card season.

They wanted to have them sent out to everyone early next week.

I find out this morning that the boss hasn't approved the design yet.

And they're debating whether they're even going to include the senders' names on the cards this year.

People have spent HOURS putting together their address lists. They're going to have conniptions if everyone gets a generic card that just says "Happy Holidays from Big Engineering Corporation."

(I don't care. It would save me hours of not having to mess with getting everyone's lists cleaned up. But I think business holiday cards are creepy anyway. It's a religious [pagan or Christian...take your pick] holiday. Not a marketing opportunity.)

...until probably early next week.

They're pleased with his progress. He is doing all the things they want--walking 150 yards, climbing stairs, dressing himself, etc.--with minimal assistance and without tiring too much.

They just want him to get a little stronger and be a little steadier on his pins.

Thanks for all your prayers and good wishes!

Sense and Sensibility (Oxford World's Classics)

Yes, I'm still slogging through this audiobook.

I just finished the part where Willoughby comes and "explains" his bad behavior to Eleanor, in hopes that it will make her think less poorly of him.

Incredibly, it seems to work. She is, at least, more sympathetic to him than she was when she believed he was a complete scoundrel.

My feelings, on the contrary, were that he was even more of a jerk after he "explained" than he was before. Only a total asswipe tries to blame his jerkiness on his fiancee, no matter how much he loathes her. And even if she is vicious and jealous, a gentleman wouldn't talk smack about her behind her back.

And a true gentleman wouldn't be so much of a jellyfish as to let her "make" him write a disgusting letter that he knows is going to cause great pain to the woman he supposedly loves.

Willoughby is a selfish bastard. Period. The only person who is important to him is Willoughby. No explanation could possibly excuse his selfish behavior, and I would go so far as to say that what he feels for Marianne isn't love, but selfish acquisitiveness. He just wanted the money more than he wanted a beautiful, sweet, accomplished wife.

Jerk.

The ambulance/cab was supposed to get there at 4:00 (an hour ago), but I haven't heard anything yet.

He was sitting up in a chair last night when I visited, and he's staying comfortable and seems to be in good spirits.

And not going home gives him a few more days where, for at least part of the time, he doesn't have mother breathing down his neck...

Dad was at church this morning after seniors choir practice, and another man fell and knocked him over. He fell on his hip that was replaced eight years ago. They're at the hospital, and it appears the bone may be cracked, so he may have to have surgery again tomorrow.

Dad's a lot frailer than he was back in 2001 after his first hip surgery.

Please say a prayer for him and think good thoughts.

Thanks.

Update: Just talked to my sister, and they're waiting for the surgeon (busy day, I guess) to determine if surgery will be necessary. But he's not in too much pain, and he actually got into the hospital bed under his own steam, which is a good sign.

He actually answered the phone when I called the room, and he sounded pretty good. So here's hoping...

I was off over the weekend dogsitting, and when I came into the office this afternoon, I found out they'd let another of the engineers go this morning.

I'm not an engineer, and technically I'm not even in this division, but I'm getting nervous anyway...