(no subject)
Oh, Kat. I so understand where you're coming from with the thinking you're working so much harder. Any time I'm on the floor with a new or semi new person I sign the dogs in, I mop the pee, I pick up the poo, I control the dogs, and I wonder how I'm managing this all by myself when there are, like, fifty dogs. Those are the days where time flies by and I'm eating lunch before I know it...and I'm buzzing around moving super fast feeling all overwhelmed. It's gotten better though. I now basically refuse to sign dogs in when there's somebody newer than me on the floor.
Brett and I just got a bunch of much better furniture from abandoned apartments. A really, really big shelving unit that holds more than the three we used to have, a nice big table with folding chairs, a new coffee table that doesn't wobble and has a cabinet, and a dresser to replace the old fiber board one that our cat broke...on purpose...so he could hang out inside of it.
It's amazing. I've never been so pleased with my home. It looks a lot less trashy and more livable.
I totally didn't have a birthday this year because I got horribly sick for about two weeks. It didn't end until after I had taken antibiotics my mom sent me. I missed four days of work plus a couple of hours from days I tried to work but couldn't and had to be sent home. I really can't figure out if it's just my shitty island immune system or shitty mainland super diseases that are kicking my ass on a regular basis.
Wrestling is going fantastically. I've now had two matches that I don't feel very good about-- though I'm told I did very good in both. It's weird: the crowd doesn't affect me-- I don't have stage fright-- but with the finality of it being THE match, I just can't think. I can't remember anything I wanted to do. This last match I just ended up forearming people a lot. A whole lot of punching. It makes me disappointed in myself because I hate wrestlers that don't wrestle...
I just paused in order to look at dog shampoos. How lame am I?
Fuck Portland. I will not move to Portland, Melissa.
Yeah, that's right.
Tonight will be the first night I've watched America's Next Top Model sober as I am out of marijuana. I'm wondering if I won't like the show sober. And Brett will be at the wrestling show I don't go to because it's way too late at night, and I'm not on the main roster anyway. But I will be soon. I'm trying to rearrange my schedule at work so that I don't have to wake up really early and stay up really, really late and then wake up really early again. That would be stupid. And I would think I was stupid.
Anyway, marijuana, I smoke a lot now. I smoke every night. Weekends I was smoking a few times a day. I've reached this new plateau of needing to turn off my brain. Sober Tara thinks about work-- stoned Tara thinks happily about her doggy friends. It's very different.
But I just found out that Lucy A. (German Shepherd/Border Collie,) a dog that loves me as much as I love her, is moving, and Friday will be the last day I'll ever see her. I honestly want to steal all of my shepherd gang members. Schatzi thinks she's my dog anyway.
www.metrodogseattle.com
That's my work. There are lots of pictures of dogs that you should look at as they are all my best friends. And I don't really have people friends, and they're my life. That's kind of sad.