Apr. 7th, 2006

brightrosefox: (Default)
Let's see. It's damp and drizzling. I have much less money in the bank than I thought I did, until payday next Friday. My head really, really, really hurts because of the rain. My sciatica is acting up, the burning pain shooting all the way down to my right heel and poking at the achilles tendon, causing me to walk on my toes because I can't put my heel down (which is okay, since I walk on my toes anyway, since the tendons of my left foot are pulled really tight due to the CP). And it's made easier with the new boots that I am wearing, with the two-and-a-half-inch heels.

However... tonight and tomorrow I get to go to Charlotte's and get served ice cream cake and fudge and food. Lena, Lex, Danny, and Jason will be there. Beca, I wish to gods you could be there but I don't think either of us could afford it right now (but you'll come down soon, right?). And I have enough money to feed myself and get to work and back, and when Adam comes home on Monday, his paycheck goes to me for next month's mortgage and he also could probably spare me some cash if necessary.

Everyone is in good health, even the dog for now. Poor Ralph can't even get up in the mornings without crying. His back legs are truly screwed up. I give him an aspirin and two glucosamine tablets tucked into cheese every day. But he has not had any accidents, and he has been such a good boy. I know Adam doesn't want to think about it, and I don't want to think about it, but Ralph is twenty years old. That's, what, a hundred and forty in human years. He is tired. He hurts. He is badly arthritic. He has severe cataracts in both eyes. His heart is old. He has injured his legs going up and down the stairs so much. It really is only a matter of time. I am just terrified of coming home and finding him dead; I'd rather he give us the sign that he's ready to go, and we can go have him put down. It's what happened to all my other dogs and cats, it was a look they gave us, the look that begged us to end it for them, the look that said they couldn't go on. Ralph going peacefully in his sleep would be nice, but being put to sleep might be less painful for his humans. I don't know. We will think about it when the time comes.

Tuesday was a true pain in the ass last night and this morning. In the middle of the night, almost four in the morning, she decided that now was the time to play. She had been sleeping in the shoebox with the towel that Adam had put on my dresser under the window, but she woke up abruptly full of energy. And she ran up, down, and sideways all over the bedroom, bounding across the bed and my head, having found one of my hair ties that I made into a toy for her. It got to the point where I chased her out and closed the door, only to have her scratching and mewing moments later, and I cannot resist that. Luckily, she settled back down in her shoebox bed under my window, and let me sleep until the alarm went off at seven.

I hope the sun comes out soon.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Let's see. It's damp and drizzling. I have much less money in the bank than I thought I did, until payday next Friday. My head really, really, really hurts because of the rain. My sciatica is acting up, the burning pain shooting all the way down to my right heel and poking at the achilles tendon, causing me to walk on my toes because I can't put my heel down (which is okay, since I walk on my toes anyway, since the tendons of my left foot are pulled really tight due to the CP). And it's made easier with the new boots that I am wearing, with the two-and-a-half-inch heels.

However... tonight and tomorrow I get to go to Charlotte's and get served ice cream cake and fudge and food. Lena, Lex, Danny, and Jason will be there. Beca, I wish to gods you could be there but I don't think either of us could afford it right now (but you'll come down soon, right?). And I have enough money to feed myself and get to work and back, and when Adam comes home on Monday, his paycheck goes to me for next month's mortgage and he also could probably spare me some cash if necessary.

Everyone is in good health, even the dog for now. Poor Ralph can't even get up in the mornings without crying. His back legs are truly screwed up. I give him an aspirin and two glucosamine tablets tucked into cheese every day. But he has not had any accidents, and he has been such a good boy. I know Adam doesn't want to think about it, and I don't want to think about it, but Ralph is twenty years old. That's, what, a hundred and forty in human years. He is tired. He hurts. He is badly arthritic. He has severe cataracts in both eyes. His heart is old. He has injured his legs going up and down the stairs so much. It really is only a matter of time. I am just terrified of coming home and finding him dead; I'd rather he give us the sign that he's ready to go, and we can go have him put down. It's what happened to all my other dogs and cats, it was a look they gave us, the look that begged us to end it for them, the look that said they couldn't go on. Ralph going peacefully in his sleep would be nice, but being put to sleep might be less painful for his humans. I don't know. We will think about it when the time comes.

Tuesday was a true pain in the ass last night and this morning. In the middle of the night, almost four in the morning, she decided that now was the time to play. She had been sleeping in the shoebox with the towel that Adam had put on my dresser under the window, but she woke up abruptly full of energy. And she ran up, down, and sideways all over the bedroom, bounding across the bed and my head, having found one of my hair ties that I made into a toy for her. It got to the point where I chased her out and closed the door, only to have her scratching and mewing moments later, and I cannot resist that. Luckily, she settled back down in her shoebox bed under my window, and let me sleep until the alarm went off at seven.

I hope the sun comes out soon.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Let's see. It's damp and drizzling. I have much less money in the bank than I thought I did, until payday next Friday. My head really, really, really hurts because of the rain. My sciatica is acting up, the burning pain shooting all the way down to my right heel and poking at the achilles tendon, causing me to walk on my toes because I can't put my heel down (which is okay, since I walk on my toes anyway, since the tendons of my left foot are pulled really tight due to the CP). And it's made easier with the new boots that I am wearing, with the two-and-a-half-inch heels.

However... tonight and tomorrow I get to go to Charlotte's and get served ice cream cake and fudge and food. Lena, Lex, Danny, and Jason will be there. Beca, I wish to gods you could be there but I don't think either of us could afford it right now (but you'll come down soon, right?). And I have enough money to feed myself and get to work and back, and when Adam comes home on Monday, his paycheck goes to me for next month's mortgage and he also could probably spare me some cash if necessary.

Everyone is in good health, even the dog for now. Poor Ralph can't even get up in the mornings without crying. His back legs are truly screwed up. I give him an aspirin and two glucosamine tablets tucked into cheese every day. But he has not had any accidents, and he has been such a good boy. I know Adam doesn't want to think about it, and I don't want to think about it, but Ralph is twenty years old. That's, what, a hundred and forty in human years. He is tired. He hurts. He is badly arthritic. He has severe cataracts in both eyes. His heart is old. He has injured his legs going up and down the stairs so much. It really is only a matter of time. I am just terrified of coming home and finding him dead; I'd rather he give us the sign that he's ready to go, and we can go have him put down. It's what happened to all my other dogs and cats, it was a look they gave us, the look that begged us to end it for them, the look that said they couldn't go on. Ralph going peacefully in his sleep would be nice, but being put to sleep might be less painful for his humans. I don't know. We will think about it when the time comes.

Tuesday was a true pain in the ass last night and this morning. In the middle of the night, almost four in the morning, she decided that now was the time to play. She had been sleeping in the shoebox with the towel that Adam had put on my dresser under the window, but she woke up abruptly full of energy. And she ran up, down, and sideways all over the bedroom, bounding across the bed and my head, having found one of my hair ties that I made into a toy for her. It got to the point where I chased her out and closed the door, only to have her scratching and mewing moments later, and I cannot resist that. Luckily, she settled back down in her shoebox bed under my window, and let me sleep until the alarm went off at seven.

I hope the sun comes out soon.

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