Well, I returned to work yesterday. And immediately discovered why I enjoyed being away from it so very much. Years ago, I'd leave on a vacation and come back and discover that things had indeed fallen apart while I was gone. It was work to fix everything, but it also -- in my heart of hearts -- made me feel needed. They really couldn't function without me.
Now when I come back and find the mess, I just feel tired. Can't they at least follow up on their regular work? God willing some day I'll sell a book or two and leave, and then where will they be? I'm sure they would eventually work it out, but good grief. Actually, I think they just let things slide. They're perfectly capable. The mice will play, but what I want to know -- really want to know -- is how I got cast as the cat!