My shift at the radio station largely consisted of me trying to get sound from Bank of America's PR guy. Seems the bank lost and then found a bunch of direct deposits -- including mine. The bank was claiming all was fixed, but I knew otherwise from having looked at my account before I left.
I was using my situation hypothetically, but the guy from BofA kept trying to make it a personal issue instead of keeping his answers limited to the story at hand. Eventually I got him to check on my question, and I was right: the transaction descriptions would not be listed for another day.
My producer thought the name "Lady" was too plain. She said if it were her dog she'd name it "Blanca Nieva" -- Spanish for "Snow White." She was also bothered by the name because "it reminds me of that 'Hey Laaaady!' guy."
I don't have a problem with that. Some of the few happy memories of my childhood involve sitting with Dad and watching Jerry Lewis movies from back when he was funny. I've already addressed the dog as "Hey Laaaady!" She seems to like it.
The BofA guy thing really stressed me out. I couldn't wait to bulk erase the tape after pulling the information off it. I now know why many journalists suffer from stress-related illnesses at a relatively young age.
The puppy was ecstatic to see me when I got home. I was giddy to see her. She wore me out as I played with her. I found if I jumped up and down the puppy would bounce on all fours -- a behavior I find highly entertaining. I've never seen a dog bounce like that; I keep expecting a Foley artist in the background to go, "Boing! Boing Boing!"
Meanwhile, my neck glands are swelling again. I've taken an antihistamine to see if that'll help. I have an interview tomorrow, amd I'd really prefer to not cancel it.