FML. NO, SERIOUSLY.
So, Friday night I took the dog to the vet for her annual shots, which I'd already put off for a month, and found out that she also had a massive hematoma in one ear, which is why it's been flopped over for like, a week now. Options: surgery, steroids, or do nothing and cue massive scarring . . . the canine equivalent of "cauliflower ear".
Sigh. I picked the non-invasive option treatment plan, steroids, which have the added advantage of being relatively cheap.
Still, after the shots and the heartworm and the antibiotics and antifungals for the underlying ear infection, the bill was almost three hundred dollars.
On the way home, I noticed that the brake light was still lit on my dashboard, even though the emergency brake was off and my foot wasn't anywhere near the brake pedal. I pulled over and messed around for a while, thinking it was a fluke, but no, the light persistently stayed lit.
After another mile or so, the battery light came on, too. My poor car! I know it's definitely getting on in years, and obviously, the electrical system is going to be the site of a lot of problems, but still . . . I sweat bullets every time something else starts acting up. So far, it's still been cheaper to keep fixing the stuff that goes wrong, rather than commit to a car payment every month.
So instead of heading home on Friday night, I stayed at Mom's and took the car to Midas on Saturday morning, where the very nice fellows determined that I needed a new alternator. Almost five hundred bucks, all told. So much for my last paycheck-- I was just glad I'd paid most of my bills already.
FUCK MY LIFE SO HARD.
As birthdays go, this was right up there with the year I turned sixteen. Mom used to leave us notes on the kitchen counter when she went to work with our list of chores for the day, and mine read:
Happy Birthday!
Clean the cat box
. . . yeah. It's like that.
Anyway, pluses. Sherman's running nicely at the moment, Stoli is taking all her meds without resistance and without puking them back up again, and my supervisor is on vacation, so I can play my music as loudly as I want in the office.
I may be broke, but at least I can be loud.
Sigh. I picked the non-invasive option treatment plan, steroids, which have the added advantage of being relatively cheap.
Still, after the shots and the heartworm and the antibiotics and antifungals for the underlying ear infection, the bill was almost three hundred dollars.
On the way home, I noticed that the brake light was still lit on my dashboard, even though the emergency brake was off and my foot wasn't anywhere near the brake pedal. I pulled over and messed around for a while, thinking it was a fluke, but no, the light persistently stayed lit.
After another mile or so, the battery light came on, too. My poor car! I know it's definitely getting on in years, and obviously, the electrical system is going to be the site of a lot of problems, but still . . . I sweat bullets every time something else starts acting up. So far, it's still been cheaper to keep fixing the stuff that goes wrong, rather than commit to a car payment every month.
So instead of heading home on Friday night, I stayed at Mom's and took the car to Midas on Saturday morning, where the very nice fellows determined that I needed a new alternator. Almost five hundred bucks, all told. So much for my last paycheck-- I was just glad I'd paid most of my bills already.
FUCK MY LIFE SO HARD.
As birthdays go, this was right up there with the year I turned sixteen. Mom used to leave us notes on the kitchen counter when she went to work with our list of chores for the day, and mine read:
Happy Birthday!
Clean the cat box
. . . yeah. It's like that.
Anyway, pluses. Sherman's running nicely at the moment, Stoli is taking all her meds without resistance and without puking them back up again, and my supervisor is on vacation, so I can play my music as loudly as I want in the office.
I may be broke, but at least I can be loud.