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"that's the beauty of time and of scale"
Nov. 3rd, 2012 08:06 pmLovely day, but Moppet is freaking me the fuck out now. For the past couple evenings, when I haven't been home, she's been having what appear to be doggie-anxiety attacks. Light told me about them and they sounded sad, but now I'm actually experiencing one and as far as I can tell, she's not in any pain, she's eaten kibble today, and cheese just now, and it turns out, whatever that thing you do when you look up your symptoms on webmd and decide you're dying is, it's totally also a thing for dogs.
So, I'm trying to snuggle her, but that's not really a thing that's working, and now Light's taking her for another walk. She was totally fine when we came home around 5, we had the traditional joyous greeting where she wiggles a lot and I make an extremely huge deal about how happy I am to see her and how much I missed her. It might be that we're watching tv by Xbox, and so we shout at the tv when we want it to do something. Light's gone upstairs because he thinks it might be him.
There were cats at the petsmart, and one was a very soft tortie curled up in her litter box, and one was a huge gray cranky-looking old cat, and three of them were tuxedo kitties like my princess and I know I can't save all the animals, but sometimes I want to try even more than I usually do.
I bought new pillows yesterday, because I felt like it would make me feel less like our couch is actually just a monument to how much damage small animals can inflict on grey fabric. The new pillows are owls. eventually, everything in my house will have either a bird, a key, a tree or leaves on it. I regret nothing.
Blargh. I'm having this set of feelings that I'm not really putting words to, and it's about the intersection of serendipity and intent, or about how an atheist believes in fate. And it's sort of about deciding how to pursue friendships or interest, and sort of how I feel like I'm locked in this weird division of chores with the universe. (Light and I have differing levels of clutter-tolerance, and mine kicks in way before his, so I think it makes sense for me to be the person who declutters. I think I have differing levels of need for attention/plans than the universe in general does, so it makes sense for me to be the person who makes plans. But, sometimes, I just want to not be the one who provides the impetus. But maybe it's just that I only remember/notice/imprint the times I provide the impetus.)
I make a lot of jokes about owning my levels of high-maintenance-ness. And I really can't fault anyone for laughing at self-derogatory jokes I make, because it turns out I am, occasionally, hysterical. But it's also a bit knife-twisty, I have a lot of awkward adolescent memories of people (my mother, my teachers, my peers, the boy I was in love with) telling me I was too much, I wanted too much or I required too much.
well, that took a turn for the dark instead of just the rambling. I think it's time for some hulu and sleepytime vanilla tea. Oh, and maybe the taza with gingerbread spices. (today's shopping trips included organic lube, a set of blinds, chocolate, cat litter and a mop. I actually intend to use all of these things in the next 24 hours.) And that is a much better note to end the entry on.
So, I'm trying to snuggle her, but that's not really a thing that's working, and now Light's taking her for another walk. She was totally fine when we came home around 5, we had the traditional joyous greeting where she wiggles a lot and I make an extremely huge deal about how happy I am to see her and how much I missed her. It might be that we're watching tv by Xbox, and so we shout at the tv when we want it to do something. Light's gone upstairs because he thinks it might be him.
There were cats at the petsmart, and one was a very soft tortie curled up in her litter box, and one was a huge gray cranky-looking old cat, and three of them were tuxedo kitties like my princess and I know I can't save all the animals, but sometimes I want to try even more than I usually do.
I bought new pillows yesterday, because I felt like it would make me feel less like our couch is actually just a monument to how much damage small animals can inflict on grey fabric. The new pillows are owls. eventually, everything in my house will have either a bird, a key, a tree or leaves on it. I regret nothing.
Blargh. I'm having this set of feelings that I'm not really putting words to, and it's about the intersection of serendipity and intent, or about how an atheist believes in fate. And it's sort of about deciding how to pursue friendships or interest, and sort of how I feel like I'm locked in this weird division of chores with the universe. (Light and I have differing levels of clutter-tolerance, and mine kicks in way before his, so I think it makes sense for me to be the person who declutters. I think I have differing levels of need for attention/plans than the universe in general does, so it makes sense for me to be the person who makes plans. But, sometimes, I just want to not be the one who provides the impetus. But maybe it's just that I only remember/notice/imprint the times I provide the impetus.)
I make a lot of jokes about owning my levels of high-maintenance-ness. And I really can't fault anyone for laughing at self-derogatory jokes I make, because it turns out I am, occasionally, hysterical. But it's also a bit knife-twisty, I have a lot of awkward adolescent memories of people (my mother, my teachers, my peers, the boy I was in love with) telling me I was too much, I wanted too much or I required too much.
well, that took a turn for the dark instead of just the rambling. I think it's time for some hulu and sleepytime vanilla tea. Oh, and maybe the taza with gingerbread spices. (today's shopping trips included organic lube, a set of blinds, chocolate, cat litter and a mop. I actually intend to use all of these things in the next 24 hours.) And that is a much better note to end the entry on.
