Canary Drama, Part 643.
Last week I put up the monthly Canary Memo for my staff. We've had a lot of luck selling t-shirts with the Canary logo on it, so one of the points in the memo was that everyone wear their Canary shirts for their shift; if they didn't have a shirt, or if their shirt was dirty, then they were to wear one from the pile of spares that I was planning on bringing in next week. I hadn't even started the enforcement of this new rule when this evening I get a text message from one of my whipping boys, who was a really great worker but has serious issues with keeping his mood in check, saying
I read the June Memo. Since I do not wear uniforms I cannot comply. Tomorrow will be my last day. Thanks.
After the (not even anymore) shock at the audacity and suddenness of this, I texted back
Today was your last day. Thanks.
And it actually felt good to take charge like that. It wasn't bitchy, it was just to-the-point-no-dicking-around-you're-not-going-to-goad-me-I'm-
Instead of fuming, I immediately emailed my other boys and asked them if they wanted Mr. Moody's shifts.
And it's all good.
So I spoke to my therapist about the Howard Issue. She suggested that SFG and I take him out ourselves for a couple of hours so I don't feel so self-conscious about playing with him. She also assured me that no one is watching me with him; they're all watching him. It's still a hard feeling to shake, but I think her idea is great. Will keep you posted.