My "entities" list for the birth center has 37 entries on it - these are things that need some sort of trigger in the phone system, the server or the email plant (or all three). All but two of them are working, and that's because two people haven't made an office call from their cell phones in a week. Our naturopathic doctor has been averaging 50 new patients per month. I have managed to figure out a way to put up pictures of families and babies such that we cannot be accused of either cultural appropriation or prejudice, which is quite an accomplishment in an industry where wokeness points are scored by accusing someone else of not being woke enough. Our problem student, who we had to let go because she was too racist to work with our South American midwife, is facing disciplinary action from the VP of her school. It took three weeks and dozens of hours of wargaming but we have successfully terminated a person of color while being white AF. Which is not to say there isn't a massive whisper campaign about how we're incompetent hood-wearing butchers. But our credibility is intact. But what about YOUR shit, KB? Surely you haven't been dealing with your wife's bullshit for a month straight? I'm trying to extricate one of our employees from the school. She's been forced to restart her thesis three times and they keep changing it on her. I'm probably a dozen hours into that as well. My wife has pointed out "hey, at least you're getting to help someone in real life instead of on the Internet for once." My daughter wants to take "beginning strings." This led to a two hour discussion with my wife last night where I realized that my pursuit of mixing and my college career in clubs was a reaction to the abuse and discouragement I experienced in the school music program as amplified and expanded by my parents. I guess that's what a high ACE score is about - the likelihood of being reduced to inchoate rage over a quarter-sized violin without even seeing it coming. I kept it together but just. The shitty thing is that the reasonable, responsible adult thing is to rent the fucking violin, put on a happy face and plaster over the gaping wound so that my kid doesn't have to grow up dealing with my bullshit. I've probably been 50 hours a week into the birth center for the past month. My wife would like to pay me so that it doesn't suck so hard. This would of course nullify my unemployment, which has been under review and hearing for the past month because I omitted my middle initial when I refiled in September. Tomorrow we're meeting with an accountant to talk about upping our corporate status and to figure out how to provide health insurance and retirement for our employees without allowing my wife to be eligible because, you see, as soon as my wife even has access to ANY KIND of health insurance my super-great health insurance that I spend 5 months in LA earning is no longer available to her. Or my kid. My wife was late coming home from the outlet mall. I immediately went to her dying in a car crash and immediately went to how I would handle the books and scheduling because if that business goes under two people lose their houses. It sucks being an employee in the United States. It sucks being an employer, too. I get to spend the next week configuring $2500 worth of IT bullshit so that our two receptionists will be less mad at one of our doctors because a technological solution is one that nobody needs to get their feelings hurt over and because fuckin' hell, nobody's paying me any extra but if I don't figure out a way to get you more money you'll never be able to get health insurance and how fucking shitty is that.