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Numbers Game

Well, that was fun. Not really, but it was quick. The auditor phoned at 8:45 this morning and asked if it would be a problem if he showed up fifteen minutes late, 9:15 instead of 9:00, because his fist appointment took longer than expected. My first thought was, he had an appointment before nine o'clock in the morning? Good thing he didn't want to see me any earlier.

He did show as promised at 9:15, and by 10:15 he was gone. There were a couple of snags, but nothing that I couldn't either correct or explain. He was happy with the information I gave him, so I didn't tell him how many hours I put in to make it that way. He didn't even ask to look at the time sheets that I spent the most time on, writing in the start and stop times for each shift.

So the auditor was here for an hour. And I spent the next hour in the bathroom, because that's what I do. Workers comp audit: nature's perfect stool softener.

The rest of the day I was merely exhausted, in recovery mode. I slept fitfully at best last night, and I've been fighting off [something] for the last few days. I can't really tell you what the [something] was, because it involved a group of shifting symptoms -- aches and pains in different parts of my body, plus more than the usual sneezing and coughing. At one point I was almost ready to drive myself to the ER, but I'm glad I waited it out. I'm fine now. (Physically, anyway. I'm still an emotional wreck.)

In fact, between resting my tired body and trying to get some real work done, I managed to get myself to Oliver's Market for some grocery shopping. Since the Raley's employees went on strike I've been taking my picky shopping needs elsewhere, without any great satisfaction anywhere. But I won't cross their picket line. I just won't.


The auditor was a friendly and courteous young man who was just interested enough to get me talking about the weather but not enough to talk about myself. That's the kind of balance I like in a relationship (with an auditor, anyway). What I got out of this ordeal, mostly, besides having this behind me for another year, is a cleaner house. For now; it never lasts very long.

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