Robbie is going home today and that's sad. And when he gets there, he says he's going to quit his job...and that's scary. At least for me. It's a mother's job to assume the worst. I told him that right before he ends up sleeping in Randolph Park and eating sandwiches from the Christian Sandwich People, he should call and I'll send him a ticket home.
I think he'd prefer the park and the sandwich.
He's not a rural guy. I might as well face it. He actually likes doing things. City things. Things where other people are doing the same thing at the same time.
I was thinking yesterday, while I was pretending to work on a quiet Saturday afternoon at the lab, that if I could find a way to support myself, I could easily live a life in which the only actual people I ever saw was Lori and the kids. I wonder if there's some way I could take in laboratory piecework? You send me your slides and I'll read 'em for you. Yeah, it would slow down the turn around time, but c'mon...don't be selfish. I need the money and whatever you're sick with is probably self-limiting anyway. I could also start a mail-order wound culture/Chlamydia culture business. You send me an e-mail stating your swabbing needs and I'll send you a swab, with instructions about where to insert it. Then you can send it back in the prepaid mailer and I'll incubate it and read it for you. If you'd like an antibiotic sensitivity, it'll cost extra, of course. But just knowing you have Chlamydia in your various orifices and/or Clostridium tetanii in your wounds ought to bring you peace of mind.
While I'm working out the details of my new life strategy, I'll give you the update on the Cairo stuff. We made an offer on a three story, 2500 sq. ft. house across from Magnolia Manor...of $12,000. The owner countered with $18,000 and we countered again with $13,000. It needs a furnace and has plumbing woe, but it's a once-beautiful old turn-of-the-century house with gorgeous woodwork, and we can make it beautiful again, with an infusion of time and money.
So we're in the market now for courageous, independently wealthy (or self-employed or telecommuting types) folks to move with us to Cairo. Although I don't really know why; I don't actually interact with them anyway.
Ah, screw it. Stay where you are and e-mail me.
Oh...and Lori and Katie are still sick. I'm not sick anymore, so that gives me the right to act all genetically superior. It makes up for the fact that I'm more mentally ill than either of them. At least I look healthier.