This day has become completely surreal.

I got here this morning, feeling a tad preoccupied from the joys of step-motherhood, and got a phone call that S, the troll I work with had been in a pretty severe car accident last evening. They don't know yet if he's going to make it. I don't feel bad for the things I've said about him - they were honest to the best of my ability, and last night doesn't change those situations. But I certainly didn't wish him any ill.

Then, a scatterbrained client who's supposed to do a report once an hour and has yet to have it timed out properly or not make horrendous mistakes called me up and said, quite calmly, "Hey, Amie, I don't think I can do the report because my building is on fire and I have to evacuate." Um. Sorry?

The GM just called to see if I was okay, and said that when the owner of the company found out about S, his first statement was "well, things should be a lot easier for Amie, now, huh?" When I told him about the client's fire, he agreed with me that maybe a padded, locked room would be best for me, since clearly this is not a good day to be near me. They've managed to hire a part-timer to take over some of my morning hours, but that means I have to drop my Pilates classes.

I'm now trying to figure out what needs to be done that is my job, what needs to be done that was S's job, and how I can alter other things in my personal life to fit my new schedule.

Goodness.

I'd love a drink right about now. Or maybe a six-pack.