LEARNING TO DEAL WITH DIFFICULT PEOPLE AT WORK

Today I found something new in Dreamweaver that will help me a lot with my website. I kept experimenting after I couldn't find the information I needed through Google. And I scanned new work into the computer and started new new pieces which always makes me happy. I spent most of my time up here in the computer room today while Harry went to his doctor and made calls for his mom.
Harry's caught my cold though and he usually gets sicker than I do, which is proving true this time too. In years past, he's had pneumonia, and before flu shots, he used to get so ill, he became delirious. Right now, it's twelve thirty at night and usually, Harry's sound asleep by ten thirty, but tonight, he can't sleep because he's sick, and I hear sports through the closed bedroom door.
Marriage and having children, in learning about other people, is the best education. Both my children are interested in Science like Harry--one teaches Biology and the other one is in his fifth year of College Chemistry. I used to regular almost flunk Science and Math, so when we have family dinners and the conversation turns to cells and chemicals, I'm bored and either overeat, or go do the dishes. Over the last couple of years my daughter has become very spiritual; she's now a Buddhist, and will be taking her Bodhisattvas vow eventually. I'm proud of her dedication and enlightenment; I learn from her as well as from my son whose outlook is so rational. When they talk about subjects I can understand, that is.
I used to discuss my most recent job with both of them regularly and they helped me deal with the various problems that arose. Brian, my son, used to laugh and be incredulous at the other workers' antics, but Honey, my daughter, understood human nature better. One of the guys with whom I worked for about 16 years I'll call X., a misunderstood, intelligent, good-looking man, who'd grown up in my neighborhood but had never gone through psychotherapy and it was obvious. We worked together on and off through the years, and near the end, were in the same division. Everybody likes to work alone in his or her office and I understood when he freaked at a young woman suddenly being put into his. His remedy was to have a phone sex conversation with his girlfriend with his hands solidly in his pants while the young woman was at her desk. That worked. She ran screaming out of there to her previous boss who summarily had X. moved to another office without a phone. X. wasn't fired and I don't think he was punished. And the other workers (except me) blamed her. The world of work. I waited twenty years to retire, and I'm not surprised I'm thrilled.
The painting is called "Stop Work".