“Fire me if you don’t like it!”
I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I’ve packed my lunch. They will give us lunch, but I’m not going to blow my points on whatever they offer: since it’s paid for, I’ll bring it home for a boy after I eat my pork-chop sandwich (5 points), apples, and carrots (zero).
DP is going to take James, Frank, and Kathleen to the gym and then to Chick-fil-A. Presently he’s cutting down the jasmine, which was collateral damage in the campaign against poison ivy in the herb garden. Tom the Mocker has nested in a holly bush in the side yard this year, which makes it less likely that his babies will fall out of the nest on a cat.
I’ve done the dishes from the stuffed peppers (I hate when the maid takes a day off) and will work on the changes Zeke made to the letter. I dunno, but somehow, I think less is better. If he’s made his point with a few words, he shouldn’t clutter it up with extraneous ideas. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
I told him to take the notes he wanted me to insert and expound on them, with a lead-in about the history of inane meetings here that accomplish nothing. We’ll see what he produces.