I'm never gonna get caught up if I keep trying to do a quality post
So here's the sh*t, in numbered format:
1)The day we came back from Vegas (nearly the very second we walked through the door), our shitty, perpetually drunk, derelict, borderline abusive neighbor came over and asked us to take his dog "for a coupla days." He meant four. He said, "I'm really in a jam here. I'll pay ya fifty bucks. A hundred!" We took the dog, not because we really wanted to help him or take his money, but because I harbored a very real fear that he'd just leave the pup out in the fenced in patio with a pile of dog food if we didn't. Her name is Lady. She's a pit-bull puppy. She stole out hearts immediately, but peed EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME and tried to play with Greta constantly. Greta was not having it. We started calling them Little Sh*T and Old B*tch:
2)I have no idea what we did that next weekend. Unpacked from Vegas, I suppose, and repacked for NYC. An album Carey had been working on was ready for release, and the artist flew Carey to the release party. I was not about to be left behind. The crazy thing was that I spent every second either in Brooklyn or NJ. I would've liked some Manhattan time, but that's where my peeps were at. I stayed with Wes the first night (and met his boyfriend), with Paul and Jessica (recent transplants from Carbondale), and at Ye Olde Studioe in Union City the last night. We had three excellent brunches (yes, two of those were in one day) and hit the Brooklyn Flea.
The visit went way too quickly. We don't have any spare vacation days, so we did that whole last flight out Friday night, first thing in Monday morning and oh, my stars. I was fried.
3)This week I felt a soreness in the back of my throat. I dismissed it. Then I saw Greta straining desperately to pee and then she promptly vomited. Alarm bells went off in my head and I brought her in for an emergency appointment at the vet. Her bladder was full of gravel and her urethra was blocked. They did emergency cytocentsis and followed it with surgery to open her bladder and flush the stones out. It was an AWFUL (and expensive) three day process, but I finally have my girl back. Or at least, the accusatory, grumpy version:
All that stress took its toll, and now I am horribly, exhaustively, mucousally ILL. And we leave for Thailand in 4 days. And I'll have my period during our honeymoon. And work.Work=stress. So much stress!!! In fact, I'm still here, at work, now, and it's after 9pm. Wow, it's after 9? I gotta go; this is bananas.
1)The day we came back from Vegas (nearly the very second we walked through the door), our shitty, perpetually drunk, derelict, borderline abusive neighbor came over and asked us to take his dog "for a coupla days." He meant four. He said, "I'm really in a jam here. I'll pay ya fifty bucks. A hundred!" We took the dog, not because we really wanted to help him or take his money, but because I harbored a very real fear that he'd just leave the pup out in the fenced in patio with a pile of dog food if we didn't. Her name is Lady. She's a pit-bull puppy. She stole out hearts immediately, but peed EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME and tried to play with Greta constantly. Greta was not having it. We started calling them Little Sh*T and Old B*tch:
2)I have no idea what we did that next weekend. Unpacked from Vegas, I suppose, and repacked for NYC. An album Carey had been working on was ready for release, and the artist flew Carey to the release party. I was not about to be left behind. The crazy thing was that I spent every second either in Brooklyn or NJ. I would've liked some Manhattan time, but that's where my peeps were at. I stayed with Wes the first night (and met his boyfriend), with Paul and Jessica (recent transplants from Carbondale), and at Ye Olde Studioe in Union City the last night. We had three excellent brunches (yes, two of those were in one day) and hit the Brooklyn Flea.
The visit went way too quickly. We don't have any spare vacation days, so we did that whole last flight out Friday night, first thing in Monday morning and oh, my stars. I was fried.
3)This week I felt a soreness in the back of my throat. I dismissed it. Then I saw Greta straining desperately to pee and then she promptly vomited. Alarm bells went off in my head and I brought her in for an emergency appointment at the vet. Her bladder was full of gravel and her urethra was blocked. They did emergency cytocentsis and followed it with surgery to open her bladder and flush the stones out. It was an AWFUL (and expensive) three day process, but I finally have my girl back. Or at least, the accusatory, grumpy version:
All that stress took its toll, and now I am horribly, exhaustively, mucousally ILL. And we leave for Thailand in 4 days. And I'll have my period during our honeymoon. And work.Work=stress. So much stress!!! In fact, I'm still here, at work, now, and it's after 9pm. Wow, it's after 9? I gotta go; this is bananas.