Rawr
I'm in a fucking foul mood. My boss is a jerk as usual, but that's too common for me to care.
Just finished the rewrites--2 days late (better than a month, I guess).
It's late because my cat has disappeared. I haven't seen him since Tuesday and I'm really worried. I think he's gone. I've been spending hours calling for him, posting signs, alerting the microchip people, and searching the roadside and bushes for his dead body. Wonderful, huh? This is the first time I've ever come home and he hasn't been there listening for my car and running to greet me when I get out.
I hope he comes back, but I somehow just don't think he will, and I'm heartbroken. I didn't even realize how much he added to my life, and how lonely I am now that he's gone.
And now I'm sad and pissed at myself for all the little things I should have done to keep him with me, and that I'm sucking as a reliable professional writer, and that everything just feels WRONG this week.
The last time I saw him, he'd been out all night. I couldn't get him in. I was late for work in the morning and saw him as I left for work--he wanted to go inside for some breakfast, but I was in a hurry. He'd been out that long before, I told myself, and could wait until I went back for lunch to go it. But then I didn't go back for lunch. And I didn't see him again. I should have taken the extra minute and let him in for breakfast. He wouldn't be gone now.
Just finished the rewrites--2 days late (better than a month, I guess).
It's late because my cat has disappeared. I haven't seen him since Tuesday and I'm really worried. I think he's gone. I've been spending hours calling for him, posting signs, alerting the microchip people, and searching the roadside and bushes for his dead body. Wonderful, huh? This is the first time I've ever come home and he hasn't been there listening for my car and running to greet me when I get out.
I hope he comes back, but I somehow just don't think he will, and I'm heartbroken. I didn't even realize how much he added to my life, and how lonely I am now that he's gone.
And now I'm sad and pissed at myself for all the little things I should have done to keep him with me, and that I'm sucking as a reliable professional writer, and that everything just feels WRONG this week.
The last time I saw him, he'd been out all night. I couldn't get him in. I was late for work in the morning and saw him as I left for work--he wanted to go inside for some breakfast, but I was in a hurry. He'd been out that long before, I told myself, and could wait until I went back for lunch to go it. But then I didn't go back for lunch. And I didn't see him again. I should have taken the extra minute and let him in for breakfast. He wouldn't be gone now.