Hello. It’s Belinda.
I had a blog post done and ready to go but I can’t use it now.
It was a follow-up report about the products everyone suggested in the comment box. What the team said about cardboard houses and mini cookies and hay cubes and all the rest. Also an update on my “hay house” idea.
I’m sorry but I have to save that for next week. I need to run it past my advisers to make sure it's "professional." I do not want any words or phrases to get me into trouble.
Because I am in a very awkward situation as I write this, which is on Friday afternoon.
It all started about an hour ago. I was taking a half-nap when I heard my roommate talking.
I opened my eyes just in time to see her place a document beside my rug.
“Wake up Belinda. You need to read this before the end of the day.”
I thought it was one of Abigail’s novel chapters so I sat up immediately. The last one was a “cliff-hanger” and I couldn’t wait to see what was next.
But then I noticed the Small Pet Select logo at the top of the page. Abigail and I aren’t like that. We keep things “friendly” and let me tell you if there is one word I would not use to describe the document by my sleeping rug it’s “friendly.”
Because it was letter from HR.
How do you like that. I’ve been written up.
According to the letter, some very innocent statements I made about my boyfriend’s companion were taken out of context and now I might have to go to court.
That’s not all. An incident that I documented for my own personal use, which I meant to keep “off the record,” is now part of my permanent employee file. I wish I could just delete the whole thing from the server.
Because the story was mostly a "what if" sort of thing. There has not been a single “accident” on the stairs since that day and even my roommate forgot about it. Which is what matters in my opinion.
And speaking of my roommate. That is the worst part of this entire situation.
My roommate has been keeping a big secret from me and I guess “HR” thought I knew. Because it’s right here in the letter. My roommate is in my space every five minutes so I have no idea how she can keep secrets from me. Especially one this big.
Now here’s the tricky business. I just wrote about 400 words and I keep adding and deleting sentences because I do not want a second letter from HR about this week’s blog.
If you are looking for "dirt" on my boyfriend's companion or even the English you won't find it in my blogs from now on. I am going to be professional.
The thing is, I thought I already was "professional." I write about hay and rabbits and snackers. I'm a spokesrabbit.
I feel like I dug a tunnel and I can’t get turned around.
And before I get a warning from the gas company, I did not dig an actual tunnel so there is no risk to the underground lines. I am just comparing how it feels to get a letter from HR about my writing to something that happened to me when I was living outside.
I have sent at least 12 emails to my notary in the past hour asking for advice.
Everything will be fine.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select