Life Sucks
There are times when I'm feeling totally overwhelmed with life in general.
Then there is today which sucks so much that I can't believe the major suck that is life.
This morning my husband called the dogs to go outside. Only my daughter's dog came. Not my son's. We looked around, and I found the dog under my bed. He was just staring at me - or so I thought. But he was dead. I know he was alive at 1am. I got up to go sleep on the couch because my husband's cold makes him snore. I talked to the dog who was rummaging through my bathroom garbage. I didn't stop him. I was tired. I wanted to sleep. This morning at 8am, he was dead under my bed. Next to him was a used female item. We don't know if he took it out of the garbage and dragged it under our bed and then choked on it. (gross but he did do that when I was too lazy to through them out in the kitchen). If that's the case, then why didn't I take the 30 seconds to go into my bathroom and stop him? If he was sick, how come I didn't stop to notice and take him to the vet?
I feel like shit. My husband feels like shit. My daughter is upset. My son? I think is in denial. He won't talk about it. He did insist we bury the dog in the front yard.
Now everytime I go out, I see the grave.
It sucks.
Of course it hasn't stopped the PTA crap that has been coming at me from all sides. Although, I've got to admit - I think they may leave me alone for a few days. When I stopped in the school this afternoon because they called to ask me to pick up some money, one of the teachers wanted to talk to me about the parents going on her class trip.
Being not in the best of moods, I told the teacher I didn't give a fuck at this point who went on the trip.
So today sucks. A big one.
And I have no idea how to make it not suck.
Then there is today which sucks so much that I can't believe the major suck that is life.
This morning my husband called the dogs to go outside. Only my daughter's dog came. Not my son's. We looked around, and I found the dog under my bed. He was just staring at me - or so I thought. But he was dead. I know he was alive at 1am. I got up to go sleep on the couch because my husband's cold makes him snore. I talked to the dog who was rummaging through my bathroom garbage. I didn't stop him. I was tired. I wanted to sleep. This morning at 8am, he was dead under my bed. Next to him was a used female item. We don't know if he took it out of the garbage and dragged it under our bed and then choked on it. (gross but he did do that when I was too lazy to through them out in the kitchen). If that's the case, then why didn't I take the 30 seconds to go into my bathroom and stop him? If he was sick, how come I didn't stop to notice and take him to the vet?
I feel like shit. My husband feels like shit. My daughter is upset. My son? I think is in denial. He won't talk about it. He did insist we bury the dog in the front yard.
Now everytime I go out, I see the grave.
It sucks.
Of course it hasn't stopped the PTA crap that has been coming at me from all sides. Although, I've got to admit - I think they may leave me alone for a few days. When I stopped in the school this afternoon because they called to ask me to pick up some money, one of the teachers wanted to talk to me about the parents going on her class trip.
Being not in the best of moods, I told the teacher I didn't give a fuck at this point who went on the trip.
So today sucks. A big one.
And I have no idea how to make it not suck.