On Relenting and Sensitivities

There has been some said about my creator being evil. I confess to feeling some guilt over that.

If mine were a normal, uneventful life, there would be nothing for her to write about. If there were nothing for her to write about, I would not be here -- not that I am particularly comfortable conversing through this particular means, but that is not what is at issue here.

What has brought on this episode of guilt and relenting in my stance?

I suppose it could be called digestive sensitivities.

Fish was never meant to be coated, greased, and fried to such a state that it is unrecognizable. Some people seem to be able to indulge in such monstrosities without any ill effects. The thought of it, the mere smell of it, makes my stomach turn. I think if I were to eat such, I would be ill.

Apparently such is the case with Jen this afternoon. It is nigh 3:00 and she doesn't have half the work done that needs to be before she can spend time with me this evening.

Aye, Mikey and Dorothy, I said "with me."

(My apologies. That does appear rather rude.)

If she does not begin feeling better, it is doubtful much work will be done. If she were able to even take a short nap -- say for half a mark ... half an hour, I suppose I should say -- that would make a difference as well. If I were in a position to do so, I would do some of her work to allow that luxury.

Unfortunately, it would probably have to be redone even if such a thing were possible.

Be well.