At this point I have lost interest in, as well as lost track of, the cannon fodder.  Yesterday was a slog, but having had Monday off (Labor Day) let me relax enough to once again see the (dark) humor in the job. Yesterday Mr.S's wife came in, as she tends to do on Tuesdays.  Usually I like having her in the gallery because it diverts his attention, and lightens his mood.  But not yesterday.

Yesterday, she decided that she did not like where the new ballerina painting had been hung, demanding a change.  So, despite the fact that the previous piece to hang in that spot (of a woman in a pink dress) had been moved by N to the 3rd floor, it was brought back down.  However, according to her that had NOT been the piece hanging there before; I know for certain that it was, but senility does horrible things.  She demanded that we bring down a different painting, in this case a portrait of a woman in a garden, and hang that up instead.  So, we lugged the lady in pink painting back to the elevator, and brought that one down.  However, then Mr.S decided that he didn't want the new ballerina painting up on the third floor, so we brought it back down, and when Mrs.S saw it she dramatically exclaimed "don't I have a say in ANYTHING any more?"

In the end, the lady in the garden ended up in the original spot, a pointillist painting to the other side of the window was taken down to make room for the ballerinas.  Those will be hung back upstairs later.  It felt like a game of musical chairs but with paintings and old people telling everyone where to go but not remembering what they had previously said to do.  To top it off, he decided to order food in because for some reason he couldn't go to his usual restaurant, which meant we couldn't get him out of the gallery for that short bit of time that lets us relax a bit.

Oh well, its Wednesday, which means he will be out soon to take the rest of his day off.