A post in which I am back in the saddle*

I woke up feeling better than I feared this morning.  Not great.  But functional.

I started getting ready for work.  During the process, a buddy I've been talking to online for some time got in touch.  I shouldn't have gone to see him, but I really wanted to and have been chasing him for a while.  I ran by there on my way to work.

Work, as I expected, was a zoo.  I got the write-offs approved and submitted for final review.  I got a surprisingly quick response, and turned them in for processing. I caught up on calls.  I have several really aggravating situations going on at work, all of which came up to be addressed today. 

 1) The Canadian office has just lost some hard-won checks.  They seem less than motivated about looking for them, and want me to go back to the customer to have them re-issued.  Far easier said than done.
  2) We have pointed nipples to the wind and started sending shipments to South America.  We have no real plan for recovery, or how these claims will be pursued.  In my initial South American placement, we can't even get proofs of delivery on the shipments.  Traffic told me to go whistle up a rope today - they've washed their hands of it.
 3) Sales continues month of the living dead by trying to re-activate an account on which we suffered a $30,000.00 loss several years ago.  Of course without checking credit worthiness.  They have already sent a field rep to call on the guy, who of course has 0 interest in paying his old bill.
 4) The collection agency has suddenly lost the ability to receive any attachments from me via email.  They seem to be intent on resolving this by just having me send emails over, and over, and over.  Or to hitch up a horse and buggy, print it all out, and just send it to them via mail.  Because yeah, that's viable.

And on. And on.

I really should have worked late today.  But by the end of the day, considering that I wasn't feeling terrif anyway, that I had caught up on three days worth of calls, and had handled that stream of mouth-breathers without actually making concrete plans to strangle any of them, I figured I had done what I could do.  I left the office.

I was wiped out.  I stopped at Arby's to get fish sammiches for supper (on sale for cheap - but I know, yuck), and made my way home.  I had planned to go straight to bed, but the new set of sheets I ordered had arrived.  Thinking that it would be a nice treat for myself after a beastly day, I washed and dried them, and then put them on the bed.  They are wondrously soft.  I have never had any microfiber sheets before, but if these hold up, I could be a convert. 

So I'm tucked in, snug as a bug, watching Top Chef and basically basking in creature comfort at the end of an awful day.  Crooner jumped up on the bed to snuggle.  I was rubbing his tummy when he shook his head, drenching my head and pillow in about a half pint of freezing cat spit-water that he had miraculously made it across the house holding in his whiskers and face fur.  Yep, it wasn't the ending I wanted, but it was an appropriate ending for this day.

He lived.