(no subject)
Just in case anyone wondered, the intake guy at the ASPCA is a total dick. I had been crying for twenty minutes in front of a whole bunch of cat rescuers by the time he showed up with his tight hot pink, lavender and navy striped sweater and his aggressively styled facial hair and he asked in a very judgmental tone why I had kept Remy for so long. Oh I don't know, maybe because I've had school and work six days a week for the last month on top of the fact that I didn't know that the ASPCA (a no-kill shelter (at least for cats)) did intake from the public until yesterday! Also, the ASPCA's own website says that you should provide foster care for as long as you reasonably can before giving an animal to a shelter! I was under the impression that keeping her in a safe, warm albeit temporary home was a better idea than immediately shuffling her off to be killed at Animal Control. Because of this dick I ended up questioning giving her up to the shelter because I felt bad about draining resources that other cats could use, and I felt bad about having Remy in a home environment for so long and then putting her in a cage. To make matters worse, there was a weird twitchy guy applying for an adoption and he kept saying that he needed a kitten. So as I was talking to a really nice cat rescuer about my decision and whether or not I could take her to the low cost mobile clinic and adopt her out myself, the dickface came over and started making me feel bad about that decision. At that moment, by some bizarre act of God, the fire alarm went off. I called my mom when I was outside and she told me I didn't have to make any decisions when I felt unsure and sad. The other people who had been in the building trickled over to the designated emergency meeting place and I found myself standing alone in front of the ASPCA crying, so I just took the cat and ran away.
So I've been crying all day not knowing if I'm doing the right thing, or making a series of horrible mistakes. My mom is coming next Monday and she will be able to help me decide what to do. I didn't think I needed the help of my mother to do shit like this, but apparently when confronted by huge dicks, who care more about making bad fashion choices and judging other people's actions than they do about helping animals, I do need help.
Also, I spilled a little cappuccino on my computer.
Now I have to go to effing class to effing sing with gigantic puffy red eyes and vocal chords which I'm sure aren't their best.
Also, I can't even say that the guy was a dick on facebook because now I'm friends with my young cousin and my high school choir teacher.
Also, I'm super late paying for Mannes and my life has no defined purpose or goals.
I just want to see the new Star Trek and disappear into the movie theatre seat so that I can just watch it over and over again without having to worry about shit going on in my life.
So I've been crying all day not knowing if I'm doing the right thing, or making a series of horrible mistakes. My mom is coming next Monday and she will be able to help me decide what to do. I didn't think I needed the help of my mother to do shit like this, but apparently when confronted by huge dicks, who care more about making bad fashion choices and judging other people's actions than they do about helping animals, I do need help.
Also, I spilled a little cappuccino on my computer.
Now I have to go to effing class to effing sing with gigantic puffy red eyes and vocal chords which I'm sure aren't their best.
Also, I can't even say that the guy was a dick on facebook because now I'm friends with my young cousin and my high school choir teacher.
Also, I'm super late paying for Mannes and my life has no defined purpose or goals.
I just want to see the new Star Trek and disappear into the movie theatre seat so that I can just watch it over and over again without having to worry about shit going on in my life.