July 08, 2003
I told 'em
I told my boss about my operation several weeks ago, and he really didn't want to know any details. "When will you be back?" was his main concern. When I told him, "Monday," he was satisfied. I had worked long and hard getting everything in order for my absence.
When I told my maintenance engineer that I wouldn't make a couple of meetings he called this week because I was having surgery, he asked, "I know it's none of my business, but is it serious?"
I told him that it was serious as a heart attack to ME.
He asked, "Does it have to do with the cancer?" He knows all about that.
I told him you're goddam right it does. That's when I said, "Mike, I'm getting a bionic dick. I'm going for the pump."
Mike is a mechanical engineer. This idea fascinated him. "How does that work?" he asked. The next thing you know, I'm drawing pictures on the eraser-marker board in my office to show him what I'm doing, just as if we were planning something at work.
He sent me an email today after I turned down an invitation to one of his meetings tomorrow. I replied, "Don't think I'll be there. I expect to be nursing a bruised... "personality" about that time tomorrow."
He wrote back: "I would wish you "break a leg" but "bust a nut" may be better advice. Good luck!"
I know what he means, but that "bust a nut" stuff makes me uneasy.
I don't want anything broken. I want things fixed.
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