In one hand, a glass of wine, in the other, eggnog almonds
Friday was the Worst Day ever, so, we will give it no more thought. At least until I have to deal with the jerkiest jerkface of IT guys again this week, or until I have to figure out how to collect important data that won't migrate when we move to the new ILS, or, you know, someone yells "HELP HELP COMPUTER" at me.
Saturday, though, I could roll around in the wonderfulness that was Saturday. Tasty food and lots of alcohol and hanging out with fangirls - it was a beautiful afternoon. We watched due South (and by watched, we made it through....15 minutes of Call of the Wild? In our defense, 1. it's Call of the Wild, and 2. there was a lot we felt we had to explain to
shiningartifact since we were just throwing her into the show in the deep end. Also, in trying to explain
brooklinegirl's pivotal role in the Ray Wars, I think it was
giddygeek who made the inspired analogy that writing Ray/Ray was like Patrick/Mikey. ) People hit their heads on my low ceiling (sorry!) and fawned over the dog and the fluffiest kitten and generally I just stood around and enjoyed being surrounded by awesome, amazing people. Although I think I threatened to drug
mrsronweasley into unconsciousness? I didn't mean it in a creepy way, I was trying to be....helpful? Since she's allergic and we have so many animals? *facepalm* Somehow we ended up with more wine than we started the day with, despite the fact that I know I drank a great deal of it. Also, I may never forgive whoever brought over the eggnog almonds because OMNOMNOM.
Sunday was supposed to be a restful and lazy day, but we had a surprise visit from the in-laws who randomly wanted to stop by to see us on their way to see K's brother, and then, because this is just the way they are, we spent a good hour righting and readjusting the washing machine from where it had fallen off its pallet. Helpful, but not really how I had envisioned the morning.
Then, it became clear that the dog, who is sometimes kind of a weirdo, was not actually just being a weirdo but seemed to have actually injured his paw and was limping around in a truly pathetic way. So K took him to the emergency vet, and of course, because this is our life, he can't just have a sprained paw or something. No, he has Lyme Disease. This makes his joints ache, which is why the limping, but he now has a pain medicine until the other drugs start to take effect. This diagnosis is alarming for several reasons, the first of which is that he's previously had a vaccine for Lyme Disease, which the emergency vet told us is, quite apparently, not 100% effective. He also has been prescribed the same medicine that two other members of my household have recently also been prescribed. All-purpose antibiotics are kind of creepy, I'm not gonna lie. The vet at least seemed positive at the poor doggie's diagnosis and treatment, which is more than I can say for the human doctors lately.
So, I'm crashing into Monday, armed with coffee and an outfit that involves a skirt and boots and leggings, and trying to find balance between the kind of worry that keeps me on top of things and the kind of worry that cripples me from doing anything else. I've got stories to write, you know, and I want to live my life, not just stress my way through it. You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth (
comments)
Saturday, though, I could roll around in the wonderfulness that was Saturday. Tasty food and lots of alcohol and hanging out with fangirls - it was a beautiful afternoon. We watched due South (and by watched, we made it through....15 minutes of Call of the Wild? In our defense, 1. it's Call of the Wild, and 2. there was a lot we felt we had to explain to
shiningartifact since we were just throwing her into the show in the deep end. Also, in trying to explain
brooklinegirl's pivotal role in the Ray Wars, I think it was
giddygeek who made the inspired analogy that writing Ray/Ray was like Patrick/Mikey. ) People hit their heads on my low ceiling (sorry!) and fawned over the dog and the fluffiest kitten and generally I just stood around and enjoyed being surrounded by awesome, amazing people. Although I think I threatened to drug
mrsronweasley into unconsciousness? I didn't mean it in a creepy way, I was trying to be....helpful? Since she's allergic and we have so many animals? *facepalm* Somehow we ended up with more wine than we started the day with, despite the fact that I know I drank a great deal of it. Also, I may never forgive whoever brought over the eggnog almonds because OMNOMNOM.
Sunday was supposed to be a restful and lazy day, but we had a surprise visit from the in-laws who randomly wanted to stop by to see us on their way to see K's brother, and then, because this is just the way they are, we spent a good hour righting and readjusting the washing machine from where it had fallen off its pallet. Helpful, but not really how I had envisioned the morning.
Then, it became clear that the dog, who is sometimes kind of a weirdo, was not actually just being a weirdo but seemed to have actually injured his paw and was limping around in a truly pathetic way. So K took him to the emergency vet, and of course, because this is our life, he can't just have a sprained paw or something. No, he has Lyme Disease. This makes his joints ache, which is why the limping, but he now has a pain medicine until the other drugs start to take effect. This diagnosis is alarming for several reasons, the first of which is that he's previously had a vaccine for Lyme Disease, which the emergency vet told us is, quite apparently, not 100% effective. He also has been prescribed the same medicine that two other members of my household have recently also been prescribed. All-purpose antibiotics are kind of creepy, I'm not gonna lie. The vet at least seemed positive at the poor doggie's diagnosis and treatment, which is more than I can say for the human doctors lately.
So, I'm crashing into Monday, armed with coffee and an outfit that involves a skirt and boots and leggings, and trying to find balance between the kind of worry that keeps me on top of things and the kind of worry that cripples me from doing anything else. I've got stories to write, you know, and I want to live my life, not just stress my way through it. You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth (
comments)