I am happy. For the first time in MONTHS I am actually…happy. Perhaps it’s that whole “Winter Depression stuff” that I go through, and every year around November I decide I am not, and then I do anyway. I guess the depression is gone. Good thing too.
I hate being a slave to brain chemicals. I know we all are, essentially, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Still, stuff has conflagrated in a manner that is giving me a certain peace that hasn’t been there in a while
CJ is doing ok. If you’ve ready anything I’ve written in the past few months you know how much that means to me.
Roxie is getting a new home, a good place with land and a pond and turkeys to chase. A relief because she’s a sweet dog, but too big to play with the weinerdogs and they have seniority.
Rosie is appearing to heal. Slowly, but definite signs there. She wags her tail, and squats her legs to pee. This from complete paralysis a week ago. She has also resigned herself to the comfort and safety of her crate, and appears to be content. Not having to deal with my own emotional upheaval of planning to euthenize her has been…well. It’s been a real relief.
David has a job! He’s starting at KF (where Terry works) working for the IT guy doing piddly fixes fo $8/hr. Yay! The Blackhearted Bastard (formerly known as El Presidente) isn’t happy about it but his boss said make it so.
In about a week my very best not-married-to friend and her Three Fine Kids(tm) are coming for a visit!
Now then, a disclaimer, because being who I am I cannot accept any sort of really good news without realizing this:
It hasn’t happened yet, any of it. CJ still hasn’t graduated, and I won’t be completely satisfied until I see him walk down the aisle in cap and gown.
Roxie hasn’t left yet. She has to get spayed first, but the appointment is made.
Rosie isn’t out of the woods yet, and she may yet have to be put down, but the signs of healing are there.
David hasn’t started work yet, and The Blackhearted Bastard might very well go out of his way to make it a living hell for David. He does that.
The friend and kids aren’t here yet. Something might come up.
Terry still works too much. He has personel issues. His best friend of the last 15 years came to work here with him 3 years ago, but cannot deal with The Jackass or The Blackhearted Bastard any more, and has found a job in his old town, so he’s leaving town. He was worried Terry would be mad, but Terry told him he wasn’t, just jealous. At least it’s the town where my parents live, so Terry can see him now and then.
The Florida Betony is taking over my yard. I can’t lift the bags of Weed N Feed to get them into the spreader.
Can’t think of anything. The Blackhearted Bastard is no prize, neither is The Jackass even tho he thinks he is, colostomy bag and patchy chemo hair notwithstanding. He still sexually harasses waitresses and the office help. I’m no hindu but I sure love the idea of karma (or is that Bhuddist…?)
So the upshot is, I’m happy. I am smiling and laughing at jokes and able to carry on with my smarter and wittier friends and not wonder why they want to have anything to do with me.
The Real Rootie Has Entered The Building.