Horrible Days
Today is my Friday the 13th. *shudders* I despise January the 16th. Things tend to happen on this day. Weird things, bad things - if I could stay in bed all day I would.
For instance, on January the 16th:
- I had a horrible horse riding accident in which I am very lucky to not have broken my neck. As it was I came out with only a horrid break to my ankle which never healed properly. Every therapist and doctor I see informs me that it needs to be re-broken and set. *shudders*
- My great-grandfather died. Oddly enough this was right after finishing some huge project in high school. All I can honestly remember is hoping and praying every night that he wouldn't die until after I was finished with the Big School Thing. He died the night I gave my presentation.
There are a whole slew of other things. Little things like cars breaking down and being very sick. Allergic reactions to shellfish that I have not had since. On one occasion I found out that the store I worked at - the one retail job I absolutely adored - was being closed. And not just my store - all the stores in North America. Today is no different. Already some little thing has happened and I blame it on the 16th.
Our move to Little Rock from Chattanooga was incredibly tough. There was the stress of having two weeks to pack, find a house and move. There was traveling 12+ hours with an ancient labrador, a golden retriever and a high-strung cat. And there was finding that high-strung cat dead in her carrier when we were little more than halfway to Little Rock.
I don't remember how we got from Mississippi to Little Rock, but I do remember my brother and I leaving the hotel to go and visit our new house in the middle of the night. We walked around but couldn't find an open door or window, so we sat on the back porch and cried. And from somewhere this little gray cat came. She crawled into our laps and rubbed against us. Just having her to hold and pet made both of us feel somewhat better.
Fluff, as we called her, came around a lot. She would sit in the windows and look at us. When we came home from work or school she'd be there waiting and even though she wasn't our cat it helped to have her around. She stopped coming around as often when we brought home Bella, but we'd still see her from time to time. And always it was with a loud purr and a rub against our legs.
This morning we found Fluff on the side of the road. Whether it was an accident in the dark of the night or some punk purposely hitting her in broad daylight is unknown. All I know is she is yet another reason to despise the 16th.
For instance, on January the 16th:
- I had a horrible horse riding accident in which I am very lucky to not have broken my neck. As it was I came out with only a horrid break to my ankle which never healed properly. Every therapist and doctor I see informs me that it needs to be re-broken and set. *shudders*
- My great-grandfather died. Oddly enough this was right after finishing some huge project in high school. All I can honestly remember is hoping and praying every night that he wouldn't die until after I was finished with the Big School Thing. He died the night I gave my presentation.
There are a whole slew of other things. Little things like cars breaking down and being very sick. Allergic reactions to shellfish that I have not had since. On one occasion I found out that the store I worked at - the one retail job I absolutely adored - was being closed. And not just my store - all the stores in North America. Today is no different. Already some little thing has happened and I blame it on the 16th.
Our move to Little Rock from Chattanooga was incredibly tough. There was the stress of having two weeks to pack, find a house and move. There was traveling 12+ hours with an ancient labrador, a golden retriever and a high-strung cat. And there was finding that high-strung cat dead in her carrier when we were little more than halfway to Little Rock.
I don't remember how we got from Mississippi to Little Rock, but I do remember my brother and I leaving the hotel to go and visit our new house in the middle of the night. We walked around but couldn't find an open door or window, so we sat on the back porch and cried. And from somewhere this little gray cat came. She crawled into our laps and rubbed against us. Just having her to hold and pet made both of us feel somewhat better.
Fluff, as we called her, came around a lot. She would sit in the windows and look at us. When we came home from work or school she'd be there waiting and even though she wasn't our cat it helped to have her around. She stopped coming around as often when we brought home Bella, but we'd still see her from time to time. And always it was with a loud purr and a rub against our legs.
This morning we found Fluff on the side of the road. Whether it was an accident in the dark of the night or some punk purposely hitting her in broad daylight is unknown. All I know is she is yet another reason to despise the 16th.