Time Waits

This getting up at 4:30am is getting to be a royal pain in my ass. First of all, I was not MADE to get up that early. Second, getting up with the GD birds means I’m done working by eleven-ish, leaving me way too much time to do things that I am SUPPOSED TO DO – like housework. Third, getting up early means going to bed early, like 8pm. When the hell did I get old, can someone just remind me?

Feh …

So yesterday, I managed to get the laundry done. When I was cleaning out the dryer vent at the end of the last load, I pulled out a wad of FUR that weighed more than my cat. Now granted, my cat is a bit on the small side, but come on! The whole fur situation is getting out of hand over here and lint brushes obviously aren’t cutting it anymore.

What to do …

OH, speaking of birds, a mourning dove has taken up residence in our chimney. The chimney vents out the hot water heater, not our furnace, so I’m told it’s not a big problem.

Uh, yeah, it is a big problem. What if it DIES in there and stinks up my house? What if it breaks through the covering where the old heater pipe used to be (we live in a very old house, with a very old chimney) and ends up in my frocking dining room? Also, my cat is trying to climb the wall to get AT that noise she keeps hearing. This morning she was standing on the other side of the wall, staring up as if trying to figure out another way to get at it.

Never a dull moment over here, honestly.

So … no New Orleans. My daughter has turned out to be very conscientious and doesn’t want me to pay for everything. Where did that kid come from, lol? IAE, instead of NO, we will be doing Chicago again, hopefully in May. That’s alright, too, though. We had a ball when we went down there a couple of years ago and we missed a LOT.

Of course, I have fun with that kid just sitting in my dining room, so …

Speaking of kids, did I mention that TheBoy moved OUT? Yes he did.

Now here’s the weird thing; I miss him. Even though he spent the majority of the time in the basement and I never saw him, it seems so quiet around here without him. I keep thinking I hear his TV in the basement, and THAT is a little creepy.

Alzheimer’s anybody?

Okay, I’m off.

Cats that Look Like Hitler

And I HAVE one, lol!!!!!

I swear, this has been the week from hell, I am NOT kidding you.

First, I need to go in and see my eye doctor.  My new lenses were just WRONG.  I couldn’t see close up unless I physically pressed the lenses nearly right to my eye and I couldn’t see far away unless I pulled the glasses all the way to the end of my nose and titled my head back.

I could sorta/kinda see if I held my head completely straight – but any movement of any kind caused my focus to waver and after ten minutes in the damn thing I had a headache that like to killed me.

So … off to get them adjusted. The manager of the office, whom I assume has SOME sort of training dicked with them and then told me that I would have to get used to them – that it took some people longer than others to get used to them.

No.  I’ve had glasses for 30+ years and bi-focals for over three.  There was something wrong.  The whole point behind no-line progressive bifocals is that there are less noticeable changes when changing from far away to close up.  There was no way I was ever going to get used to bobbing my head in order to read a magazine page.

I asked for my old lenses and said I’d go elsewhere to find out what the problem was.

“NO!”  She stood up with the glasses in her hand. “I’ll take them in back and be able to find out what’s wrong with them.

Ten minutes later she’s back and telling me that the lenses were made to the exact specs of the eye doctor.

“Well, that may be, but there is something wrong.  And I am not bobbing my head around like fuzzy dog in someone’s back dash. I paid $350 out of pocket for those lenses and I NEED to be able to see.” I held my hand out.  “So I’ll just be going elsewhere.”

“We can return your money if you’d like.”

Uh, sure.

“We can’t refund the charges for the exams, only for the lenses and you can’t keep the lenses.”

“Fine.” No harm, no foul (unless you want to count the three farking weeks since I GOT the damn things and the monster headaches I’d had).

She takes my frames in the back and is gone FIFTEEN minutes.

WTF.

I put them on when she brings them back, and there is a bit of distortion.  I chalk that up having contacts, the new lenses and now my original lenses on my eyes all in the space of an hour.

Ten minutes after we leave the store, I am telling the story to my friends and I hold the glasses up in front of me and my friend in the back seat says, “Those lenses are different.” Just as I’m realizing that there is not ONE scratch on the right lens. The dumb bitch had put the old LEFT lens in, but not the old right lens.

I got on my cell, called the office and said to the manager, “I will be back within the hour and I would like my ORIGINAL right lens replaced in my frames.”

“Oh! I must’ve FORGOT!”

“Lady, that’s what you went back there to do.  There were only two lenses, I was the ONLY customer in the place and you were gone long enough to replace the lenses in FIVE pairs of glasses.”

So … to shorten it all up, I got my money back and have to make an appointment elsewhere for new glasses.

Oh, and I will NOT be doing 20 to life in Taycheedah for murder.

Feh.

Turns out to be a good thing that I got my money back.  Took the dog to the vet on Wednesday, thinking he had a bladder infection.  Turns out his white blood count is elevated, his prostate (WTF?) is enlarged, he has a NASTY infection around his penile area (that means under the sheath), his allergies are acting up, his skin is terribly dry and he needs to be neutered to take care of the prostate issue.

Of all of those things, the high white blood count is what had me most worried – a sign of cancer, I know. I go home with two weeks of super antibiotics and $60 worth of shampoos.

I get a call yesterday saying he needs additional blood testing before the surgery next Thursday, bring him on Saturday.

Okay, now I’m really panicky.  We can’t wait until Monday?

So I took him in today and the vet called this afternoon and said everything looks good and is a go for Thursday.

What?

Anyway, the infection is indirectly because of the enlarged prostate and the neutering will shrink the prostate and all of this (well, not the allergies and the dry skin) will go away.

JEEBUS!

This will cost me over $500 by them time all is said and done.

And after his very thorough bath, in which I had to THOROUGHLY cleanse the “penile area” he follows me around more than he did before.

I need a drink.

Actually, what this is gonna be is one great big, fucking bitchfest.

Hmmm … where to start.

Glasses, $357 – check. Fuck you Walmart.

My head hurts, my back hurts, my knees hurt, my wrists hurt, my fingers hurt – MY FUCKING ASS HURTS. I am well and over this feeling like shit deal.

I should die, already. Fuck me.

The dog? Fleas – uh, maybe, who the fuck knows? Spoiled or bladder infection? Who the fuck knows? I know that a vet appointment is in order. I’d like to finish the bitching first please, before I have to start hunting someone down to drive my stupid, useless ass and that of my poor dog to a vet. Fuck the dog and fuck the vet.

Which reminds me – get a fucking driver’s license already.

Get over being pissed at the county and the fat-ass cop who gave an old fucking woman a drunk driving ticket and our asshole friends who either a) get off with a warning even though it’s the bazillionth time they’ve been pulled over or b) can mange to drive after revocation without being terrified that they’ll get caught.

Just get the hell over it and get your fucking driver’s license back.

In the meantime, fuck the county, fuck Officer Fisher and fuck my wastrel, drunken friends.

Fuck the Internet, or Time Warner Cable or this useless fucking computer – whichever of the three are  making it nearly impossible to get any work done today and yesterday.

Oh! My “best friend“!

Yeah, you.  You said you’d take me to the eye doctor on Monday.  I called you on Sunday to remind you – no answer.  Let’s not forget the fucking interview you have at the salon where my sister works, where I put a good word in for you.

Yeah – fuck you.

The extensions have to go.  I have enough pain without those fucking things pulling at my scalp.

Beside, who gives a ripping shit?  I am old and no one cares what I look like, including my asshole of a husband who hasn’t laid a hand on me in three weeks and who can’t manage to say ten words to me when I call him on the phone.

Of course, he CAN manage to sit on the phone with my brother’s wife for a fucking half an hour on Friday night … whatever.

Fuck him, too.

And the extensions.

The only thing I don’t have to bitch about is my job.

Well, there’s something new and different.

I gotta go …

Already into August, the summer’s gone so fast and it doesn’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything at all. It seems alll I do these days is work and sleep; I didn’t do anything interesting this summer. I didn’t even do anything with TheBug and we had plans.

Ha! Plans!

As if … plans like promises are made to be broken. Don’t let anybody tell you different.

Shooter has been gone for three days. BigD opened a window on the porch and didn’t realize that the screen was partially pulled out. He caught Marbles outside, but she came right back in when he called.

It never occured to me until the next morning that Shooter might’ve already gotten out.

Stupid.

I’ve been stanndng outside calling her every day.

I want my baby back.

I cry every time I see this stupid video.