I really don't like that moment during the day when I realize I've essentially done everything except the stupid bookkeeping and that I no longer have any excuse to ignore it. Today I even filed first, which is pretty much a sign of desperation.

The end of the fiscal year (as I well know) comes on Friday. Much of what I am able to do is done. I just have a handful of those time-consuming bits and pieces that always fall to the bottom of the pile because they sound like they're going to be annoying all out of proportion to any results you might get. Fight with the insurance agent about the premium doubling for no reason, ask a client to pay a bill past-due since 12/2005, try to make the phone service provider sell us a part we need, etc.

I actually do have enough of those kinds of things to keep me busy for at least the next two days. Which is probably why I'm in a bit of a snit with Bernie for sending me a snippy email telling me I had, essentially, three "free, paid" days off last week and I should be working harder this week. (Yes, I was out of the office for three days, but at his heavy-handed 'suggestion' I wound up taking vacation or sick time for half of that. Because, you know, it is so my fault he hasn't brought any new business in all year and I didn't have anything to do.)

Considering he took yesterday off, he's leaving at 3:30 today, and he's not coming back until Friday, when he's scheduled to work for another, whole three hours? I think he has a fair amount of nerve implying that someone sitting in my office isn't giving their all.

That was completely uncalled for. He only sort of suggested that in his email and when I went in to talk to him it turned out, as usual, that we were on separate wavelengths and he was talking about "wasted" time because we weren't busy and could have done the year-end stuff if we'd been in the office.

Also, he gave me a Christmas bonus and now I feel bad about the way I so frequently exaggerate his misdemeanors to give myself better material for blog entries.

Not bad enough to stop doing it because nothing should get in the way of a good story. But, you know. Kind of bad.