notable business, business of note, notes from business

Let me tell you: this past week, or so, I have made the kind of mistakes, at my job, that only seasoned professionals make. I have tangled with difficult co-workers (and nearly sunken to their level) I have forgotten details (and, in my defense, my days are complicated) and I have disappointed my boss (I am still tap dancing through that one).
Yes, it would seem that the planets and stars are not aligned for me.
Never mind. I will persevere. We will all be proud.
Tonight I slit my finger open on a can!
No, not the can of designer dog food - the can of baked beans!
Designer dog food? I hear you hissing...
Why yes. Shall I tell you the story?
(Cue fog and music)
A few weeks ago, Oldest and I were hanging around the kitchen just after I had given the dog a scoop (a Restoration Hardware Burnished Nickel Scoop) of dry dog food.
We noted, together, that the dog, being elderly, has, of late, had difficulty chewing her food.
Her teeth are a little wobbly, I think (I will not get close enough to know this).
Oldest made a sad face as he watched her struggle and I made a sad face watching Oldest.
He suggested we purchase canned food for her and I suggested that I might vomit if I had to feed it to her.
We agreed that, as he is an early riser, he could feed her in the morning and we could all pitch in in the evening.
I dreaded the prospect, but, last weekend, I was at the supermarket and saw this.
I will admit: the cans were so pretty that I believed the food would not smell. (And, when I say would not smell, I mean: would not smell like something that would make me vomit.)
I bought a can of Savannah Crockpot. (Imagine, if you will, that we don't own a crockpot but I bought dog food titled thusly.)
And, may I just say: the DOG nearly knocked me over when I OPENED THE CAN.
And the food? Merely smelled like food.
I sent Oldest back to the market the next day for a case of the stuff.
Sunday Brunch sounds promising, doesn't it?

I should also tell you that I have shone radiantly, this past week at work.
I thought of things that only seasoned professionals think of. I diffused a most difficult co-worker. And I remembered details my boss forgot.
All is not lost - but the road is sometimes bumpy.
I do hope that's enough metaphors for you.
Metaphors and commas.
Two of my specialities.


Mary said…
The sound of retching as I open cans of dog food can probably be heard all the way from here to Tuvalu.

The work road can indeed be bumpy but the fact that you can shine too means everything
Anonymous said…
That does look like nice dog food. My dog is on the diet kibble purchased at the vets office. $65 a bag, but he's lost thirteen pounds, and his hips thank me. Now, if I can figure out what to do about my hips...

Anonymous said…
OK. I have never seen such a catching, inviting, promising dog food packaging.
Only in the USA.
Also, I feel for your poor dog on a diet ErinH ...
NorahS said…
You ARE good at commas, but that is not the main reason I read your blog.

Sounds like there is never a dull moment at your job.

All of my word verifications lately sound like Harry Potter spells. "Redangeo!!!"
KPB said…
Now there's a good brand for all the pensioners to get onboard with.

I'm heaving at the mere thought of canned dog food. HEAVING. (I have a sensitive gag reflex.)

And I can't believe that bloody dog is still alive. If you cry when she carks it I may hit you repeatedly with a tray.
blackbird said…
I shall not cry when she "carks it" - tho I may cry for my boy who will lose his pal...