It’s nearly midnight, and I’ve finally finished working. I had to cancel Ian, which he didn’t like. Mainly, I think, because he didn’t know what he was going to tell his wife about why he was home so early.
Most of the work I did should’ve been done by Kylie but, when she’s not doing Stuart’s underwater hockey work (which means he thinks she’s marvelous) she spends most of the rest of her work time making long personal phone calls, having long lunches or shopping. Then she goes home on the dot each of the three days she works. Today, she asked me, all bright-eyed, if I could mind the phone for ten minutes while she went out to pick up the mail. She didn’t come back for about two hours. She’d met a friend she hadn’t seen for ages and went and had a coffee with her. Meanwhile, I’m answering a constantly ringing telephone, taking messages and transferring calls to everyone in the office, when I had a lot of work to get on with — which Kylie was supposed to be helping me with.
I should say something to her, but I don’t want her to be annoyed with me. What’s the matter with me?