Ah! Don’t you just hate days like these?

Awoke feeling better than last night, but not as well as I had hoped. Decided it was maybe better to take it easy today, and so absented myself to the office, where Mrs. Ottawacker fed me oatmeal. I still had my coffee though; not sure my body could handle my not having it…
 
I’ve decided to be a little firmer about where I spend my time. As I have complained numerous times, I am working for an organisation out in NZ, which has little money. I’ve sort of gone along with this and provided services for a significantly reduced rate, on the understanding that when things improve, I’ll get more out of it. I think I have now come to the conclusion that things aren’t going to improve and that if I want to work for essentially nothing, I can do, but if I want to retain my sanity, I’ll draw a line in the sand.
 
So, I drew a line in the sand and made it clear I’d work the hours I was paid for – and if the work didn’t get done then they could either pay for more time or have unfinished work. I don’t like doing this – I am far too proud to hand in stuff I’m not happy with – but there is a nagging feeling that I am the only one providing content. I’m no longer really prepared to do this without being paid for it. I have my own projects to complete.
 
So, to cut a long story short, I sent off the email and then sat stewing about it while I should have been stewing about Liverpool’s performance at home to Chelsea. Liverpool won 2-1, but I just don’t like the way the team is playing. You can see that when we go forward and play with pace and power, we are unstoppable. Today, we did that for 5 minutes, scored twice and could have had another penalty. For the other 85 minutes, we played conservatively. Chelsea were good, but couldn’t really lay a glove on us. But it leaves me cold. Football is a game of emotion, not control. I just don’t like the style of play the new manager has us playing. First world problems, I know. Today's blip sums up the stale, turgid crap I was served up.
 
Anyway, I have a feeling that it threw me for a loop, as I was in a bad mood, or something resembling a bad mood, for the rest of the day. Even the normally implacable Mrs. Ottawacker commented on it (in her implacable way). And then I started to feel a little sick again. So, she took Ottawacker Jr. to football, while I drank neat Ricard and cooked pork tenderloin in orange juice, which Ottawacker Jr. didn’t like.
 
Whaddyagonnado?