Spring fever.
Of various kinds...
Is there something in the water or the air or what, lately? Because lately the world has been a pretty fucking shitty place, and that includes my own little bubble-corner. I damn near bit off my dad's head earlier today because he's been bitching at me for anything and everything, and I'm fucking tired of being the go-to whipping post. He's going to push me to the exploding point any day now, if he keeps this shit up...!
My mom hasn't been much better, but then I think that's because he also takes it out on her, so she's just as unhappy and cranky as he is (though for differing reasons). Plus, cabin fever: we've been cooped up for so long in this shoebox because of the cold and snow, and this week is the first time in a long time we've been spending extended time outdoors.
Not that it was much fun. Today was spent hauling garbage out to the burn pile (because we are poor and/or stubborn and refuse to pay for garbage pickup because it is a shitty rural area so garbage pickup costs almost a hundred bucks a month so we have to burn all of our garbage including the recyclables (except for the metals like the pop cans, which get turned in for money) which is really really disgusting and wasteful). I was really irritated when Mom told me the cat poop 'wouldn't burn' so she made me take alllllll those bags that have piled up from me daily-scooping all the boxes and open them up and spread the poop in the far-south field of our property. (Like that's not gonna attract crap we don't want around here... Also, it's just disgusting.)
Also, I have a feeling I'm going to be a nervous wreck from now on. Since the weather has been nice, we finally let the Kitty Mafia out - albeit just the 3 girls, because the boys aren't fixed yet, which I'm really hoping to do this month - unfortunately money is becoming a critical issue for me - and since then I've been the recipient of many muddy pawprints. (Sunny loves to climb all over me.) They've been happy to the point where right away I can tell it's going to be one hell of a time rounding them all up for the night - Boo has always disliked being made to go in, but now Sunny has picked up on that as well (though I kind of think it's also because she just wants to be with me). And Mom thinks I should let the boys out anyway, but I'm afraid of them wandering too far off the property because they're not fixed. (Hormones suck.) Cue her and me having a mini-argument over knowing what's best for my pets. *sigh*
Another thing that worries me is that Dad wants to mess with the garage this year and make some alterations to it (with what money, God only knows). Which means that the cats are all going to have to temporarily move out, whenever this insanity is projected to take place, and Mom thinks she can pen them inside the barn with just some chicken wire. Um, NO. If I have to I'll set them up inside the crawlspace under the house; it's far more secure (though she and Dad will probably bitch about that anyway). As it is, they took off some of the boards over the (broken) windows to let more light into the garage (there are storm windows up over the spaces, so the critters can't get out), which I will admit is an improvement.
Sunny nailed the first rodent of the season by beating the crap out of it. I felt sorry for the poor mouse, especially when at one point Sunny, Chrissy and Boo were kind of circling it like a group of furry sharks. In removing the nearly-if-not-already-dead rodent to a field further off, I was amused to find out that Sunny is like my Bubba was - she does not like you to take away her prey, although she's slightly less vocal about it than Bubba was - his growls were louder. Chrissy almost had another one, but it got away from her and went somewhere into the barn, so now she knows where to go for her hunting fix.
Incidentally, we apparently have rats infesting the barn as well. D: I found out from Mom that's why we were going through so much chicken feed this winter: damn things were coming up through the floor/wall holes and pigging out! She was cleaning out the chickens' area and actually saw the little jerks attempt to sneak in, so she's been taking flattened cans and nailing them over any possible entryway. I don't mind if they kill them, but I REALLY don't want the cats eating one of those disgusting things. Bad enough Boo will eat whatever she catches... (And I fear this is maybe what happened to poor K.C., eating something he shouldn't have.)
Managed to snag the Sharknado yesterday and went and put in a couple of applications for some jobs. One is for a resort waaaaaaay out in the middle of nowhere (figures) that's looking for front desk and housekeepers. I put down for both; I figure housekeeping can't be too bad (though of course this depends on what-all has to be done...I'm sure toilet-scrubbing is involved somewhere, but as long as it's not wall-to-wall hazmat-level filth I can deal). The other is for a retail joint that caters to your rural and farming populations. It would mean having to hear country music (UGH) all day, but as long as they treat their workers better than their main competitor does (as my mom will attest to from hard personal experience), again, I can deal.
And finally got a call back from the vet's re: Sam's testing that I had done the last time he was there in February. The good news is that his B vitamins are normal; his folate levels are high which indicates a presence of bad bacteria, so basically it's a scenario wherein the bad bacteria overgrew the good ones. Bad news is that the vet wants to put him on an additional medication, an antibiotic liquid (I forget the name; metha-something-or-other...) which will have to be given by mouth (as if Sam didn't already dislike having us shove pills down his throat, which we're still doing!), which means an extra cost that I have no idea how I'm going to pay for (other than to hit up the poor credit card again, which I REALLY don't want to do while I'm still trying to pay that bastard off!).
But, it's gotta be done. Sam is doing better, actually, and is more or less behaving like his normal self; the one thing is that he hasn't put on as much weight as he normally should when being given canned food, but he has gained more than he was before within the past two weeks, so that's a good sign. So I may as well keep on with the meds just to be safe. Like the late great Sir Terry Pratchett said via Death, cats make life worth living for. (Even if my current depression has had me seriously questioning that wisdom!)
Is there something in the water or the air or what, lately? Because lately the world has been a pretty fucking shitty place, and that includes my own little bubble-corner. I damn near bit off my dad's head earlier today because he's been bitching at me for anything and everything, and I'm fucking tired of being the go-to whipping post. He's going to push me to the exploding point any day now, if he keeps this shit up...!
My mom hasn't been much better, but then I think that's because he also takes it out on her, so she's just as unhappy and cranky as he is (though for differing reasons). Plus, cabin fever: we've been cooped up for so long in this shoebox because of the cold and snow, and this week is the first time in a long time we've been spending extended time outdoors.
Not that it was much fun. Today was spent hauling garbage out to the burn pile (because we are poor and/or stubborn and refuse to pay for garbage pickup because it is a shitty rural area so garbage pickup costs almost a hundred bucks a month so we have to burn all of our garbage including the recyclables (except for the metals like the pop cans, which get turned in for money) which is really really disgusting and wasteful). I was really irritated when Mom told me the cat poop 'wouldn't burn' so she made me take alllllll those bags that have piled up from me daily-scooping all the boxes and open them up and spread the poop in the far-south field of our property. (Like that's not gonna attract crap we don't want around here... Also, it's just disgusting.)
Also, I have a feeling I'm going to be a nervous wreck from now on. Since the weather has been nice, we finally let the Kitty Mafia out - albeit just the 3 girls, because the boys aren't fixed yet, which I'm really hoping to do this month - unfortunately money is becoming a critical issue for me - and since then I've been the recipient of many muddy pawprints. (Sunny loves to climb all over me.) They've been happy to the point where right away I can tell it's going to be one hell of a time rounding them all up for the night - Boo has always disliked being made to go in, but now Sunny has picked up on that as well (though I kind of think it's also because she just wants to be with me). And Mom thinks I should let the boys out anyway, but I'm afraid of them wandering too far off the property because they're not fixed. (Hormones suck.) Cue her and me having a mini-argument over knowing what's best for my pets. *sigh*
Another thing that worries me is that Dad wants to mess with the garage this year and make some alterations to it (with what money, God only knows). Which means that the cats are all going to have to temporarily move out, whenever this insanity is projected to take place, and Mom thinks she can pen them inside the barn with just some chicken wire. Um, NO. If I have to I'll set them up inside the crawlspace under the house; it's far more secure (though she and Dad will probably bitch about that anyway). As it is, they took off some of the boards over the (broken) windows to let more light into the garage (there are storm windows up over the spaces, so the critters can't get out), which I will admit is an improvement.
Sunny nailed the first rodent of the season by beating the crap out of it. I felt sorry for the poor mouse, especially when at one point Sunny, Chrissy and Boo were kind of circling it like a group of furry sharks. In removing the nearly-if-not-already-dead rodent to a field further off, I was amused to find out that Sunny is like my Bubba was - she does not like you to take away her prey, although she's slightly less vocal about it than Bubba was - his growls were louder. Chrissy almost had another one, but it got away from her and went somewhere into the barn, so now she knows where to go for her hunting fix.
Incidentally, we apparently have rats infesting the barn as well. D: I found out from Mom that's why we were going through so much chicken feed this winter: damn things were coming up through the floor/wall holes and pigging out! She was cleaning out the chickens' area and actually saw the little jerks attempt to sneak in, so she's been taking flattened cans and nailing them over any possible entryway. I don't mind if they kill them, but I REALLY don't want the cats eating one of those disgusting things. Bad enough Boo will eat whatever she catches... (And I fear this is maybe what happened to poor K.C., eating something he shouldn't have.)
Managed to snag the Sharknado yesterday and went and put in a couple of applications for some jobs. One is for a resort waaaaaaay out in the middle of nowhere (figures) that's looking for front desk and housekeepers. I put down for both; I figure housekeeping can't be too bad (though of course this depends on what-all has to be done...I'm sure toilet-scrubbing is involved somewhere, but as long as it's not wall-to-wall hazmat-level filth I can deal). The other is for a retail joint that caters to your rural and farming populations. It would mean having to hear country music (UGH) all day, but as long as they treat their workers better than their main competitor does (as my mom will attest to from hard personal experience), again, I can deal.
And finally got a call back from the vet's re: Sam's testing that I had done the last time he was there in February. The good news is that his B vitamins are normal; his folate levels are high which indicates a presence of bad bacteria, so basically it's a scenario wherein the bad bacteria overgrew the good ones. Bad news is that the vet wants to put him on an additional medication, an antibiotic liquid (I forget the name; metha-something-or-other...) which will have to be given by mouth (as if Sam didn't already dislike having us shove pills down his throat, which we're still doing!), which means an extra cost that I have no idea how I'm going to pay for (other than to hit up the poor credit card again, which I REALLY don't want to do while I'm still trying to pay that bastard off!).
But, it's gotta be done. Sam is doing better, actually, and is more or less behaving like his normal self; the one thing is that he hasn't put on as much weight as he normally should when being given canned food, but he has gained more than he was before within the past two weeks, so that's a good sign. So I may as well keep on with the meds just to be safe. Like the late great Sir Terry Pratchett said via Death, cats make life worth living for. (Even if my current depression has had me seriously questioning that wisdom!)