Dishy Eyes

Dear Reader,
I hope this post finds you happy and healthy and filled with good cheer.
It's chilly, but sunshiny here--the type where you're happy to take the puppy out, but find yourself searching for a warm patch of sunlight and a tree to brace against to cut the cold.
Things here are--well, not going especially well, but they're moving and in a positive direction which I'm appreciating. I have a friend in management and she's really generous about sharing any articles with me that she finds helpful, and I often find the subject matter transferrable to my own day-to-day, though sadly, I can't seem to put my ideas into practice. Bypassing a deadline, or any of life's multitude of little minutiae details can sometimes drive me batty and they just don't seem to understand that I'm in charge. I've had this conversation with the sink dishes. Occasionally, I even slap the crap out of them with a rag and a towel, and, when they're really asking for it, I rub some bleach powder into their little dishy eyes. And yet those dirty bastards keep reappearing. Really, you've got to admire their tenacity. I'm a little bit of the mindset of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," but I just don't fit in the sink.
Alas, enough of my ramblings. I'm off to tackle the day!
May your day be well!
Love,
Echo