Paul and William and I got our annual Covid and flu shots today. My report may or may not be helpful to you, since I am hearing it varies by pharmacy/chain/practice and by state: but in our state, at our local pharmacy chain, when I signed up online for vaccination appointments, it asked me two questions: (1) had it been more than two months since our last Covid shot, and (2) were we eligible to receive the vaccine. It did not define “eligible,” or ask any follow-up questions about that. If I weren’t extremely online, and hadn’t been hearing all the scary things about the government restricting Covid vaccines, I could easily have said yes to the eligibility question in full innocence, just thinking it meant was I eligible like I always have been. And maybe it DID mean that! Who can say? I appreciate their commitment to plausible deniability. And also: the shots are in our arms now. It’s not like they can be taken back.

I can also report that when I picked up one of Edward’s prescriptions at Target back in early September (I need to transfer those, but haven’t yet), they asked if I wanted a flu and/or Covid shot. I said I’d heard it was best to wait until October, but that I was wondering if I should grab this opportunity before it was lost, given (*MEANINGFUL WIDENED-EYE-CONTACT*) The Current Administration—and the pharmacist said in our state we should not have an issue with it, and that their pharmacy had already ordered and received their shipment of vaccinations. She said one of our neighboring (BLUER) states was not as secure, and that she’d already vaccinated many people from that state who were driving to our state. So that is another tip for U.S. residents: neighboring state. That might bring up issues with insurance, though, I don’t know.

The three littles will be home next weekend, and I’m booking them for the same shots then. I hate to have them spend one of their few days with us suffering side-effects, but here we are.

I asked the technician giving me the shots if she’d heard any feedback on the side-effects of this year’s particular formulations. She said she had not, but that of course she WOULDN’T normally hear back; she said people only said that the flu shot hurt more than the Covid shot, which was true for me too. She did say she’d had repeat customers: people coming in the next week to get their RSV, pneumonia, MMR, TDap, etc., so she felt they couldn’t have been TOO traumatized. My mother reported that she was unconscious on the floor for an unknown amount of time after feeling too weak/sick to climb into the bed—but, as you’d imagine given the age of your Swistle, she is Older, and also she has chronic issues with dehydration/fainting. Do you remember back when the Covid vaccines were new, and they said to absolutely CHUG Gatorade/Powerade on the day of the vaccine? We are doing that here, in the hopes that it will mitigate the reaction. But I am expecting, if this shot is like the others, that in the night we will start to feel feverish/ill, and that we will spend part of tomorrow luxuriating in illness. (There is such a different vibe to Feeling Ill when the symptoms are “oh good this shows us the vaccinations are working” rather than “oh no here we go down a dark unknown road.”)

I do think I am going to get the pneumonia shot this year. I was so sick last winter, I remember thinking “Oh, I see: THIS is how people die.” I am also thinking I will get an MMR (measles-mumps-rubella) booster, just for kicks; it sounds like it can’t really do harm, only good, and if we’re going to let measles go frolicking around in this country again, I’d rather put up some personal barriers. The ER gave me a tetanus shot when I fell and needed stitches on my knee; I wonder if that was the TDap (tetanus, diphtheria, pertussis), or if it was JUST tetanus? IS there a shot that’s just tetanus? If I got a just-tetanus shot, can I still get the TDap? I never felt like I needed to know these things, before this administration.

Have you already gotten your flu and/or Covid vaccines, and can you give us a report on what the side-effects were like this year, and about whether you encountered any obstacles to obtaining the shots? And while I have you here: are you able to give a report on what to expect with the pneumonia and/or MMR vaccines?

Remember to make your vaccine-receiving arm all loose and noodley right before the shot! And then move it around a lot afterward! (Someone told me this is why they get their vaccines in their dominant arm, since they naturally move that arm more, and this has changed my own strategy.)

I didn’t have work today, and it was a Hobby Day.

First: I woke up to an alarm half an hour later than usual, which was already nice, and then I lounged in bed for an additional half hour playing on my phone—which is my number-one top-choice way to wake up in the morning. What I do is: I get up when the alarm goes off; pee; use my freshly-washed-still-wet hands to scrub the sleep from my eyes; spritz my face with some sort of nice restorative toning/freshening/moisturizing/vitalizing spritz (I only do this on mornings I’m going back to bed); take my usual omeprazole plus a bonus partial caffeine tablet (only on back-to-bed mornings); open the curtains to let the light in; and go back to bed to wake up slowly while I mess around with Pokemon Go and Pikmin Bloom on my phone. LUXURIOUS.

Half an hour later the caffeine has kicked in and I am able to force myself to get out of bed and go on a walk, which is something I am trying to do each morning I don’t have to go to work. Changing from pajamas into exercise clothes is the worst part somehow. Then I have to set up my two phones (YOU HEARD ME: TWO PHONES) to: tether (only one phone is connected to service; the other is for secondary accounts, so has to be tethered to the first phone in order to work away from the house); start planting flowers (Pikmin Bloom); set up a party (Pokemon Go); start a playlist (Spotify). I walk to the start of the nearest Pokemon Go route to get credit for the walk. It takes a lot of props and incentives to motivate me to exercise.

Anyway, I did my little walk. Did a couple of raids (Pokemon Go). Planted a lot of flowers (Pikmin Bloom). I came home and organized my phone-game plunder while stretching. I took a shower. Got dressed. Made coffee.

THEN! Today is WORLD POSTCARD DAY! I have not done Postcrossing for awhile, but my account was still there waiting for me, and in these trying times we grab desperately at any dim spark of interest. A few months ago Postcrossing gave information on printing their annual World Postcard Day postcard, and I found that motivating enough that I: (1) actually went to a local shop and got it printed, (2) reactivated my account and sent a bunch of cards so that I would be able to RECEIVE World Postcard Day cards (you only receive a postcard after someone has received one from you, and I hadn’t sent any in AGES), and (3) then temporarily suspended my account so I wouldn’t receive a bunch of cards BEFORE World Postcard Day. I did not fully understand the algorithm, so I did not do this as well as I could have—but, BYGONES, and I do hope I will receive ONE OR MORE postcards mailed today from elsewhere. And I will know better for next year.

Another thing I did not realize: each Postcrosser can only send TEN postcards on World Postcard Day, to make sure there are enough addresses for everyone. This makes total sense! And the shop I went to, which prints postcard orders in batches of 100 or more, had already agreed to print “only” 50! And also, I’d sent 15 of the 50 in a packet to Elizabeth, who also does Postcrossing. …Still, I have ended up with extra cards. Which is fine! It’s fine! Next year if I do this I might find a different way to print them! Or might offer to send packets of 10 to other Postcrossers!

So this morning I spent a pleasant hour and a half addressing and writing my ten cards. Two of the recipients collect stamps, which is fun for me because I have A LOT of stamps, including lots and lots of the little 1-cent, 2-cent, 3-cent etc. ones. I have ones from years ago, ones that are no longer available. Ones from before “Forever” stamps, so they still have numbers on them! It’s fun when someone says they like penguins and polar bears and Star Trek, and I have (1) a penguin stamp and (2) a polar bear stamp and (3) a Star Trek stamp.

On my way to the grocery store, I stopped at the post office to mail the cards; my hope is that this means they will definitely have today’s postmark. I don’t fully know how postmarks work. Is it GUARANTEED that if you mail something on a particular day, it will have that day’s postmark? I have ASSUMED so, but I don’t KNOW so.

Then, also on the way to the grocery store, a stop at the garden/pet store for the cats’ special Hills Science Diet Oral Care kibbies, which we mix into their regular kibble to help clean their teeth. Out of stock again. I am trying to shop less on Amazon, but it is frustrating when Shopping Local requires not only spending more money but also making multiple attempts/stops. NEVER MIND IT’S FINE.

Then groceries! Taking over a gym in the parking lot before going in (Pokemon Go), even though I know it will be grabbed back before I’ve even left the store. Planting flowers the whole time, up and down all the aisles (Pikmin Bloom). Buying various seasonal/pumpkin things for college care packages: pumpkin spice granola bars; packets of mini pumpkin muffins; jack-o’-lantern-frosted brownies; pumpkin spice hot chocolate packets.

Came home and read the new Jess Kidd book (Murder at Gulls Nest) for hours, with multiple breaks to check in with phone games and eat snacks. (I am cutting in here to say if you try a Jess Kidd book and like her writing as much as I do and so you start going through her other books: her book Himself has such an upsetting dog death in it that years later I am still sorry I read it, even though the rest of the book was great. It was too much. IT WAS TOO MUCH.)

With dinner we watched another episode of The Queen’s Gambit, which I am enjoying as much as everyone else did when they watched it five years ago. We’d delayed mostly because we’d heard it wasn’t appropriate to watch with children? Which I’d assumed meant the same thing as why Bridgerton is not appropriate to watch with children: because neither parents nor children want to be in the same room with each other while some hot guy slams some hot chick into a staircase (YIKES OUCH) / against a wall / to the ground, heatedly/repeatedly, and then causes her to scream after ten to fifteen seconds of rapid vigorous action. But so far in The Queen’s Gambit it’s only been an issue of casual and potentially problematic drug and alcohol use. And our own resident child is 24, not 12, so truly the bigger concern is embarrassment. (I do feel the smoldering potential for embarrassment to happen in later episodes.)

Commenter Rose commented on the weddings and babies post:

Wait, can we have a post where everyone just gets to list favorite kids books?? That would be the perfect compliment to all these wonderful babies you get to enjoy.

(I am prone to giving Jamberry and I am a Bunny to new babies, but I’d love new ideas!)

This is fun, yes.

I find I am unexpectedly a little shy about saying the books I like to give! I am worried they will seem… Well, I guess I am worried they will seem Dated. I am an Older Lady now, and possibly I am giving Older Lady gifts. I think I will choose not to worry about it. Older Lady Gifts are good, is what I am going to choose to believe. We pass the crème de la crème down to the next generation, is how I am going to choose to think of it.

Some of the books I used to like to give as gifts are no longer available for purchase, which I think is one of the reasons I would worry, if I hadn’t chosen not to. Maisy’s Colors, by Lucy Cousins; Farm Animals, by Lucy Cousins; Where Is Maisy’s Panda?, by Lucy Cousins. One Red Sun, by Ezra Jack Keats. Pond, by Lizi Boyd; Forest, by Lizi Boyd. I am so glad I saved my own copies!

Here are the ones I am still able to order new:

(image from Amazon.com)

Blue Hat, Green Hat, by Sandra Boynton. Silly, fun to read. I wish it didn’t now say “(the OOPS book)”. We don’t need to point out the joke. I have also ordered But Not the Hippopotamus by the same author.

(image from Amazon.com)

Where Is Maisy?, by Lucy Cousins. In my opinion, not as good as the no-longer-available Where Is Maisy’s Panda?—but good.

(image from Amazon.com)

I Am a Bunny, by Richard Scarry. I loved loved loved that Rose mentioned this exact same book. I see I have ordered it seven times, more than any other book. I had this book as a child; I had it as an adult and read it to my children; I realize it may look very 1970s now, but I choose to believe that contributes to its soothing charm. I found it soothing to read, and it contributed to my appreciation of the name Nicholas.

(image from Amazon.com)

Pantone Colors. This one isn’t so much fun to read as it is fun to look at, and fun to choose which shade you like best of each color, and fun to appreciate and/or disagree with the color names.

(image from Amazon.com)

Everywhere Babies, by Susan Meyers and Marla Frazee. This one is starting to get harder to acquire. I choose it because the illustrations show many different kinds of families, without making any kind of big deal about it, which is a big deal.

(image from Amazon.com)

100 First Words, by Ms. Rachel. This is the only book I’ve given as a gift that I didn’t read to my own children—and in fact, haven’t read at all. I bought it to support Ms. Rachel, after seeing her anti-genocide posts online.

I have been very lucky: during this time of intense political/cultural suffering, combined with less-intense-but-still-unpleasant job suffering, I have had these three things, each overlapping somewhat with the last, to keep me from being without something wonderful to think about:

• wonderful long-awaited (years of fertility issues) pregnancy news from a distant-but-dear younger cousin, followed in time by wonderful baby news and ongoing photos, and getting to pick out baby clothes and baby board books (their registry was absolutely RAZED, everyone was so happy for them)

• wonderful engagement news from a favorite coworker (approximately the age of my eldest child), followed by ongoing wedding-planning updates and soon a workplace bridal shower I will get to bake a cake for and choose a gift for

• wonderful surprise-baby news from the (grown!) child of another dear cousin, and getting to think about what gift I will send; and they plan to get married sometime after the baby is born, so then I will get to choose another present!

There was a time when I was younger and marriages and babies were happening CONSTANTLY, and then there was a long dry spell where the news was more like divorces and Issues, and now it feels like I am at the small starting edge of another surge of marriages and babies. Friends’ kids are starting to get engaged! Former classmates are grandparents already! HERE WE GO. (How do you write an extended “go” so it doesn’t look like an extended “goo”?)

Normally in terms of possessions my brain is set up like that meme where someone says that as soon as they try to diet their body says, Don’t you worry lassie: in this time of famine we’ll work overtime to keep ye plump as a partridge! …One sentence in and I feel I’ve lost the sense of what I’m saying. What I’m trying to say is that normally my brain is inclined to hoarding, no matter the circumstances. I look at my clothes, and I think “I will never wear that again,” and then immediately I think “WHAT IF PAUL DIES OR DIVORCES YOU AND YOU ARE SUPPORTING YOURSELF ON MINIMUM WAGE WITH NO BENEFITS!! THEN YOU’LL SURE BE GLAD TO HAVE THAT T-SHIRT WITH BLEACH STAINS AND THAT ILL-FITTING BUSINESS CASUAL BLOUSE AND THAT SWEATER THAT DOESN’T FLATTER YOU BUT WILL KEEP YOU WARM WHEN YOU CAN’T AFFORD HEAT!!” Clothes I don’t like and never wear are an INVESTMENT in my DISMAL IMAGINED FUTURE!

Recently I had a rare attack of the opposite: I read something by someone who was required by actual-rather-than-imagined dismal future to abruptly downsize; and then one of my older coworkers moved from a family home to an age-in-place single-person apartment; and then Nicole (HI NICOLE!!) posted the Mary Oliver poem about calling the trash man to take away the contents of the storage unit and feeling like the little donkey when its burden is finally lifted; and I bagged up three kitchen-trashcan-sized bag of shoes, shirts, and sweaters I don’t wear and/or don’t like. I find it particularly difficult to get rid of things I’d THOUGHT I would LOVE but then DIDN’T, and things I USED TO LOVE but no longer do. I have to tell myself that I am not getting any better returns on my investment by housing those items indefinitely and rent-free. I also find it useful to imagine someone else incredulously discovering them at Goodwill: “ROCKETDOG SHOES?? IN MY SIZE??? IN TWICE-WORN CONDITION?? WHAT IS GOING ON?? DID I WIN THE ATTENTION OF A BENEVOLENT DEITY???”

I can’t update about the work situation yet, because there is nothing new. I am continuing to lie awake full of potential scripts for potential situations, which is highly unpleasant. I am continuing to think of new options for other jobs, which is good, and your comments full of options have been very useful and good.

I am starting to shop for Christmas, and I am trying to make it be about Getting a Jump on Things, rather than being about Oh God What Is This Upcoming Shopping Season Going To Be Like???

It’s too soon to call it, but not too soon to start making plans: it looks as if my Huge Difficult Effort at work was not successful. My supervisor came back with a new plan for doing things that is LUDICROUSLY WORSE IN EVERY WAY, to the point of looking to me like if it’s not payback it’s dementia; and my boss’s boss doesn’t know enough about the job to see anything wrong with the plan, and told me with some light exasperation that I would need to talk to my supervisor if I didn’t like it; and I did talk to my supervisor in a sit-down meeting, and my supervisor said uh huh, uh huh, tough shit we’re doing it this way; and also my boss’s boss didn’t ask any of my affected colleagues if they agreed with me that the new plan was bullshit, she just made it into a my-word-vs-the-supervisor’s-word situation, which of course my supervisor won because she is the supervisor. The new plan has a significant negative impact on every workday for me and for several coworkers, with no benefit to anyone.

So I have learned once again (how many times will it take??) that going up against this supervisor leads only to regret, so I am considering my other options. It is stupid and terrible that she can take a job I love and singlehandedly, pointlessly ruin it; it is stupid and terrible that she would take a dedicated employee who loves her job and make her miserable for no good reason. But here we are. And I can’t work for a boss I don’t respect, a boss who makes stupid/mean decisions that are backed up by a boss’s boss who can’t tell that the decisions are stupid and mean. So again: here we are.

There is still slim hope. I have a few cards left to play, but they are only the last-ditch, gamble-everything-and-almost-certainly-lose kinds of cards. There is also one remaining staffing issue that may help, but it looks unlikely: theoretically I am getting a new supervisor—but the new supervisor will be part-time and will be completely under the jurisdiction of my current supervisor, so it sounds to me like it is an “all the work, none of the power” position. But maybe! Maybe they will be the one to slide in and defeat my current supervisor! Even though the last person who held that position was relentlessly bullied by my supervisor and then fired! I can still dream that this time it could be different! I can choose to hang in there awhile longer to see what happens if for no other reason than The Drama, while I consider my other options.

One more encouraging thought is that I can depart with a full report to my boss’s boss (and to the board of trustees, if I wish) of WHY I am leaving. In another job long ago, I went to my supervisor’s supervisors again and again about issues with my supervisor, and they kept trying to reassure me (“Don’t worry about her, you’re doing a good job, just ignore her!”), and they encouraged me to talk about it with my supervisor, and so on, so that they wouldn’t have to deal with it, and they did not want to hear me that my supervisor was BATSHIT. I eventually quit, leaving a letter explaining why, with copies to the supervisors and also to the owners. My replacement quit after several weeks, also mentioning the supervisor as the reason. The owners then hired a friend of theirs to fill that position, and after a week the friend went to them and said “This supervisor is BATSHIT. It is impossible to work with her and here’s why.” And the owners fired the supervisor. Too late for me, but satisfying to have been retroactively vindicated.

What I am looking for now is my next interesting job. At this point, I don’t expect advancement, or career, or whatever. I have had one entry-level job after another, and that doesn’t seem likely to change at this point. I expect low pay, no benefits—but in exchange I don’t want to encounter resistance (including “find your own replacement”) when I need days off, nor do I want to be pressured into taking on extra shifts, nor do I want to have to fight hard for my 15-minute break; and I need the job to be satisfying and interesting at least in its own way on its own level; and I’m not willing to add a long unpaid commute to my shifts. I especially like jobs where I get a behind-the-scenes / insider-information look at something, or where I can learn a skill I can use in my normal life. I have done:

• waitstaff / ice-cream
• doughnut shop
• receptionist
• nanny
• cleaning
• label factory
• college library
• different label factory
• bakery
• greenhouse
• infant daycare
• pharmacy technician
• in-home eldercare
• library page / assistant

Of the things I’ve done, I’d maybe be willing to do again: library; infant daycare; pharmacy if it wasn’t customer-facing (but the nearest hospital pharmacy is a 35-minute drive, which is too far).

I have a (very old) college degree in business management / human resources. This has helped me get jobs (“ooo, a college degree for this position that doesn’t require one!”), and has also prevented me from getting jobs (“overqualified”). I would be willing to acquire some additional education—but let’s be frank, it’s probably not a good investment at this point. I’m good at numbers, and writing. I can type, and I’m good-in-a-normal-way with computers but I would not say I am techy; the only way I can solve a tech issue is to turn it off and turn it back on again. I’m self-directed, and diligent, and careful, and I will persistently work to improve myself at the job. I hate the phone. I’m not good at anything confrontational. I am great at fixing problems if I know how to fix them—that is, if a customer has an insurance issue and I am a pharmacy technician, I will work at it persistently until it is solved or until I have reached the limits of my ability; I won’t shrug and say “I dunno, ma’am, you’ll have to call your insurance company.” I don’t have a projecting voice, and my voice shakes if I do any sort of public speaking. I have poor fine-motor skills. I can’t cut a straight line with scissors. I am very good at keeping track of things that need to be done, and when. I would almost rather die than do sales or fundraising, I find them so agonizing.

I am starting to encounter some age-related physical issues. Kneeling/crouching is a problem with my replacement knee. I have progressive eyeglasses and have trouble seeing things on the bottom shelf now that I can’t easily kneel. I get tired out more easily than I used to. My veins and I don’t want to be on my feet for eight hours. But one thing I appreciated about my library/paging job is that I did get some automatic physical activity: I typically got 5,000-7,000 steps during a 4-hour shift, not to mention all the going-down-to-one-knee-and-right-back-up-again I used to get before I had my knee replaced. THIGHS OF STEEL BABY. This seemed very advantageous for an otherwise indoorsy, sitting-in-a-chair-reading-or-at-a-computer person like me. I know Am@zon is supposed to be TERRIBLE to work for, but the idea of rushing around filling orders is VERY appealing at least on the face of it. The go! go! go! feeling of industry is one of the things I like about my current job. I find walking MUCH, MUCH easier than standing, or even sitting.

One possibility is doing infant care again. I might enjoy it, and I’d like to refamiliarize myself with babies before I and my friends start seeing grandbabies, and I think “mother of five” is a pretty good selling point—for the employer, and for parents considering the daycare for their infants. But I remember when I did it before, it could be frazzling and exhausting, and of course it depends on the boss: I quit that job in part because my boss’s boss said the babies couldn’t be crying. That’s like a good chunk of what babies DO, as anyone with baby-knowledge knows. And if you put one caregiver in charge of four babies / two caregivers in charge of eight babies, there’s going to be even more of it. Imagine telling a single parent of quadruplets that you are going to close the door and you don’t want to hear ANY CRYING FROM THOSE BABIES.

I could do eldercare again, but I would need to be paid much, much more. When I did it back in 2015, the agency I worked for charged clients $28/hour and paid me $10/hour. That was for changing adult diapers, helping adults to the toilet and wiping adult bottoms, giving adult showers, doing housework and cooking and shopping, handling medications, supporting client emotions/moods, getting yelled at by clients no longer in their right minds—and getting constantly nagged by my supervisor to take more shifts and to drive an unpaid hour round-trip for a two-hour shift. Newp.

Another possibility is going to another library. There is a library 10 minutes away that is advertising a similar job for $5/hour MORE than I get paid now. But they have a reputation for being unfriendly and unpleasant. Patrons often come to us even though the other library is their home library (we’re in a library group, so the library cards work at any of the libraries), saying we’re so much friendlier and more helpful. Maybe it’s not worth considering. Or MAYBE I COULD CHANGE HIM.

Another possibility is the post office. That’s one of the Richard Scarry Town jobs I haven’t yet done. And I’m curious about the inner workings. And I would love to feel less baffled by mailing options.

Another possibility is something medical—but again, the nearest hospital is 35 minutes away. That’s too much commute.

Another possibility is substitute teaching. Our district is so desperate, no teaching degree is required; there’s an online training course and a background-check, and you’re in. I suspect I would not be good at it (I don’t think I have natural crowd-control, and I think the children would sense fear; and also my voice does not Carry), but I also think it’s the kind of job where the only way to find out is to try it.

In some ways, my lack of career/advancement makes this process easier. I know of women my age who have advanced careers and are trying to change jobs, and their options are severely limited by their age and by the scarcity of the job-level they’re seeking. And there’s William, with his fresh computer science and linguistics degree—he doesn’t want to get a job at the post office sorting mail, he wants to Start His Career! But me, I have never had a job other than entry-level, so I have the freedom to choose among alllllllll the crummy options, purely on whim! Yay!

Tonight I’m going with friends to an early-access showing of the latest Downton Abbey movie. I’m looking forward to it, and also I am glad they are saying this is the last one. I loved the show, but the movies have been…sub-par. And now without the Dowager Countess!

I had a confrontation at work with my supervisor, who has been driving me/us crazy. I am not really sure how it went: in high stress, my memory doesn’t record well. I took half an hour to cool down, and then went directly to my boss’s boss. I DID NOT WANT TO. But I thought, my supervisor IS going to go to her about this, and then I WILL be called in to talk to her, and this way I get in there first, and without the “called to the principal’s office” vibe. That meeting went well, though of course I frustration/stress-cried. But my boss’s boss is good at managing such things, and is a calm and calming person.

Now we will see what happens next. I am ready to quit if I need to, but I would rather not. I would rather that instead my boss’s boss rein in my boss, and make her stop driving me/us crazy. Ideally, managers are supposed to listen to employees telling them about the things making their jobs harder, and find ways to reduce/eliminate those hurdles; this supervisor is more interested in winning an argument that the hurdle doesn’t actually exist, and then adding more hurdles as punishment for complaining.

Also, she seems to THRIVE on emergencies, so she has no incentive to prevent them. The confrontation was about me finally getting BEYOND sick of having a preventable emergency every single Monday morning, despite numerous requests for changes to the situation; my supervisor instead DECREASED staffing during that time, and then made cracks about how we sure didn’t need two people doing one job. My boss’s boss agreed with me that there was no reason to be having such an emergency, and she listened to my suggestions and made a few of her own; she then talked with a couple other people the situation affects and got their input, and together we came up with a plan. The next step is for her to go over it with my supervisor. This is where I’m afraid things may go amiss. My supervisor has an inexplicable way of convincing bosses that the staff is being a bunch of babies and that everything is actually fine, and/or that the problem was a temporary anomaly and there’s no reason to change anything.

Furthermore, my supervisor has a pattern of agreeing to a plan but not implementing it. Or implementing it but not reinforcing it, or implementing it but after awhile forgetting why we implemented it and changing it back. (That’s what happened with the staffing: she put a second person on shift with me because of the constant emergencies, and then moved that person elsewhere saying they were a duplicate and we didn’t need them.) And so another reason I am glad I went to my boss’s boss is that now I have a separate person involved in the changes, someone I can go back to and say “Remember the plan we agreed to? [Supervisor] is changing it.” I don’t want to be Little Miss Tattletale, but it has been years of this and I am about to pull a “people don’t leave jobs, they leave bosses,” so I don’t have much left to lose. I have loved this job better than any job I’ve ever had, and my supervisor is acting as if it’s her personal mission to change that.

This weekend I saw some cousins I haven’t seen for…well, we couldn’t figure it out. Did we last see each other at my cousin James’s wedding? That was when Henry was 2 weeks old (I’d considered giving Henry the middle name James in honor of the cousin/wedding; I am glad I didn’t, but also I still think that was a fun idea and that I wouldn’t have regretted it) (the real names would not have been Henry James like the author, so that was not an issue), and Henry is now 18 years old. Maybe it was at my cousin Lynnie’s wedding two years later—but no, I didn’t go to Lynnie’s wedding. Oh!! Maybe it was at my brother’s wedding?? Oops, no, that was even longer ago.

Our conclusion was that if we can’t remember how many DECADES it has been, that means too much time has gone by. And we had such a nice time together! My brother said afterward that he hadn’t realized the gathering would be so determined to laugh and have a good time, and that’s just how it was. It’s not as if we thought everyone would be determined to be pensive and serious! But this was just so clearly a group that WANTED to enjoy the time together, WANTED to say things to make everyone else laugh, WANTED to be glad to be together.

Well. Now this presents a new conundrum, and it is: How do we arrange more frequent get-togethers in the future? Maybe something every year or two; every two to three years might be more achievable. I think the big gap happened because we hadn’t noticed we’d shifted from the “Our parents get us together” stage of life to the “We have to do that ourselves” stage of life. It was a little exhilarating to think of, and a little weighty.

We have a rather large age gap: my mom and her siblings are spread out over twelve years, which is half a generation; my cousins and I are born over fourteen years, and I am the eldest. When my youngest cousins were born (two of them the year I was twelve and one more when I was fourteen), I was about the age my youngest uncle was when I was born. I love this kind of generational shifting (I love when someone becomes an aunt/uncle while still in school, or when an aunt/uncle is YOUNGER than their niece/nephew), but I do think it makes it near-impossible to do the important childhood bonding. I am much closer to some of my SECOND cousins on that side of the family, because they are almost exactly the same age as my brother and me, and they were often at family events; and in the era when grandparents felt no obligation to have any entertainments on hand for children, we bonded immediately. Meanwhile my little cousins were toddlers, under the radar. When I headed for college, they headed for preschool/kindergarten. No wonder we didn’t think to keep in touch.

Now, however, they seem to be full adults, and very nice/fun people besides. Our parents are mostly at the point where they may no longer attend family reunions, let alone arrange them. We cousins are spread out not only in age but also over about 800 miles: not insurmountable, but not the kind of thing where you can stop by with a pie. I would say two of the seven of us are placid to the point of irrelevance in this matter: they might attend a reunion, but they won’t do anything to make anything happen. Another two of the seven of us (plus one of the placid ones) have young children: it’s harder for them to travel, and harder for them to be in an unfamiliar place, and harder for them to find the time/energy to arrange things. Another two of the seven of us are my brother and me: we have older children, we’re more flexible—and also, we’re the eldest; I feel like this gives us a certain level of responsibility to see if we can make this happen / see if we all want it to happen. The last of the seven is another contender for leadership: confident, comfortable, social, and ready to make things happen; she’s also one of the babies born when I was twelve, which is fun. Oldest and youngest cousins—UNITE AND PLAN!

…Er. If you have any ideas, the cousin committee would be grateful to hear them. How do people MAKE THESE THINGS HAPPEN? (And WHAT SORTS OF THINGS do they make happen?) I feel like we could get bogged down even trying to find times we’re all available.

First, a shopping mystery for the comments section. I feel silly asking about things like this, but then I ask anyway and nine times out of ten someone is like “Oh, I’ll bet I know what that is! Here’s a link!” Elizabeth lost her favorite eye pencil. She doesn’t know the brand, and neither of us think we bought it: we think either she got it several years ago as a gift or else it was in my make-up box (which she has thoroughly pillaged) from one of the few subscription/advent boxes I tried before realizing I don’t wear make-up. It was a black eye pencil with glitter—not shimmer, GLITTER, so that there would be several little flashing pieces of glitter along her eyelid. She said it had a gold cap. I’d love to find out what it was and replace it for her.

Second: we have dropped off the three college kids, and now it is just me and Paul and William in the house. I know from experience that the sudden painful jabs will stop in a week or two, but right now I am still catching myself off-guard with thoughts such as “Isn’t it about time for Henry to be getting home?” and “Oh, we need more _____ at the grocery store, oh wait no we don’t.” I was thinking how much stranger this would be if William were NOT still at home. Just…me and Paul and the cats? Already?

Drop-offs went well. Henry was very nervous (pretending not to be) in the car on the way, and nervous when I dropped him off with his stuff—but by the time I’d taken the car to the distant parking lot as instructed and made my way back to his dorm (HALF AN HOUR’S WALK, THEY SAID THERE WOULD BE A SHUTTLE BUT I DID NOT SEE ANY SIGN OF ONE), he was cheery, and already getting along well with one of his roommates (he’s in a triple). Henry’s goal is to meet as many people as possible the first few weeks while everyone is new. He emailed us a little list of the people he’d met and liked so far, including someone who “may be my lifelong best friend, not that I’m making plans or anything.”

The twins are both in unfurnished apartments, and I am trying to leave this to them to figure out. My own impulse is to panic. “There is NOTHING IN THIS KITCHEN!!!” “But anything they buy, we have to figure out what to do with at the end of the year!!” “What if they buy something and then forget it’s theirs and a roommate takes it??” etc. All will be well. Items purchased for college apartments join the College Apartment Furnishings Cloud: maybe the saucepan is lost, but a couch is found; or both saucepan and couch are lost, along with the tower fan, but all go on to find another college student who needs them. Each semester of parents/students contributes to the Cloud; each semester benefits in their turn. When William’s college didn’t resume after spring break in 2020, workers packed up all the kids’ stuff for them and put it in storage; we ended up with two very expensive bath towels that did not belong to William. He contacted both of his roommates offering to mail the towels, but neither roommate claimed them. I’ve wondered if someone else’s parent was wringing their hands over those towels, as I was over the tower fan Rob lost along the way, along with some cookware and dishes.

When Elizabeth was moving in, we walked past a dumpster that had a little assortment of things clearly set to the side in case anyone wanted to claim them: a coffee table, an ottoman, a computer chair. Elizabeth took the ottoman. We saw other people take the chair and the table. By the time we left, there was a laundry hamper and a dining room chair. This is the College Apartment Furnishings Cloud at its most active and observable, but I like to imagine that that’s the gist of what’s happening all the time, less visibly: perhaps Rob’s tower fan was accidentally brought home by one of his roommates, who passed it down to his younger sister who is just now starting her sophomore year; maybe his dishes were left behind in a cabinet, and a college employee cleared them out and put them in the pile of used-but-still-good things the college resells at the start of each year, and another student bought the little deer bowls, and she graduated several years ago but still has them in her kitchen cabinets now.

fortunately I bought myself a set of the same bowls at the time (for $8, not for the $30-plus-shipping they are charging now)

We are ticking off all the things that will happen before the summer is over and Henry goes to college. One after another, tick tick tick, and now here we are in the last week. We have purchased the twin-extra-long sheets and comforter; we have purchased the tower fan and the bath towel and the backrest. Henry has purchased a guitar.

On Saturday, I took Henry out for breakfast; he and I both like eating breakfast out, and everyone else in our household is kind of meh about it, so we seized a last opportunity. Sunday morning, I drove Rob to the train station (he was here for a two-week visit). Tuesday is Henry’s last day of his summer job. Wednesday I’m off work, and we go pick up Elizabeth from the summer camp where she’s been working, and we do last-minute college shopping for anyone who needs it. Thursday we’re getting Chinese take-out for dinner at Henry’s request. Friday morning Edward has a hospital infusion appointment, so Paul will take Edward to that while I take Henry to college; I might bring William along to help with carrying things, but my memory of other freshman drop-offs is that the lifting/carrying is done almost entirely by extremely school-spirited students working for the Admissions department and using giant rolling carts, while the parents go park the car in a distant lot and walk half a mile back to the dorm to hug the child good-bye and then walk half a mile back to the car.

We have not been settle-the-child-in college parents. At the urging of a coworker whose child is going to the same college as Henry, I joined a Facebook parents group for parents of freshmen at this school, and it has been an eye-opening experience. Parents MEASURING FOR CURTAINS. Parents asking about filters for the showerheads/faucets. Parents wondering which dining hall is closest to their child’s dorm. Parents posting, and I am not exaggerating, HUNDREDS of questions about lofting the beds, and about how many inches there will be under each type of lofted bed, and asking about special bedskirts that will cover the mid-lofted underbed space, etc.

We drop the child off with all their things, and we hug them and leave. So far each baby bird in turn has figured out bed-lofting without us. I remember this from my own college experience as well: bed-lofting is a student group-bonding experience. No one needs a middle-aged parent trying to measure the gap for a bedskirt that matches the curtains. (What happens, I wonder, if the roommate’s parents ALSO bring bedskirt-matching curtains??)

Different people are different ways, so there MUST be students who earnestly want/need their parents to help unpack all their stuff, make the bed, choose coordinated decorations for the room, etc., but we are so far five for five on students not wanting that. Elizabeth SHOOS US OUT: “Okay, now go away, I want to arrange my stuff!” A few hours later she sends us a Snapchat video of the results, zooming in on highlights: her plant, her art supplies, her posters, her large round ugly stuffed proboscis monkey.

The day after we drop off Henry, we leave early in the morning to drive the twins back to college. Both of them are in unfurnished campus apartments this year, which seems to me like THE WORST option: so much stuff to bring, AND you have to clean your own bathroom. (The dorm bathrooms are communal, and cleaned by someone who is paid to do it.) We had a hitch put on one of the cars so we can pull one of those little enclosed trailers. Two mattresses (thank you for the suggestion, Jane D., they are currently uncompressing on my dining room table and seem GREAT!), two mattress bags for protection during transport and for easier carrying, two folding desks (one is this one and one is this one), two folding bookcases. Everything else packed into bags like these (we have several sets, some IKEA brand and some knock-offs; all seem good), which are like nice sturdy roomy water-resistant duffels that fold flat when you don’t need them, and also the kid can use one as a good single duffel for coming home on breaks.

One week from today we will be back home and all three college kids will be at college, and we will be figuring out what a household looks like when it’s me, Paul, and 24-year-old William.