It was actually a wonderful weekend. I got a lot of sleep and hid from the humans (for the most part). The dog and I took long walks and looked at Upper West Side architecture. I sat on a park bench and ate Kentucky Fried. For the first time in about three months I was utterly relaxed and untired and not minor provocation from tearyness. It was good and my brain finally rebooted and I even cheerfully did some house work.
But it turns out the weekend just SEEMED good... last night I got a phone call from my oldest friend's partner. Which seemed deeply weird until my brain started making sense of what Kevin was telling me.
Curtis is out of danger. His prognosis is good. He is expected to fully recover. He's had a brain bleed and is in the hospital. They don't know what caused it, they'll do more thorough testing after the holiday when all the doctor's get back. The good news is the aphasia and small motor control problems will likely go away when the pressure is reduced. The good news is the pool of blood is small, the size of a quarter. The good news is it will probably go away without surgery and if it does require surgery it is a simple procedure... you know, for brain surgery. So much good news.
September? You are ON THE LIST
{{Trudy}} Hope the good news gets better quickly.
{{Sean and S}}
Headed off to the court house for day two of jury duty. Some don't-pick-me~ma would be appreciated.
Headed off to the court house for day two of jury duty. Some don't-pick-me~ma would be appreciated.
Err, I think if you say that three times, it guarantees you'll be picked. That, or Tony Todd shows up and kills you with a meat hook.
Today's Bizarro, for those who may not get it in their comic section.
Best healthy wishes for Curtis. I hope the recovery exceeds all expectations.
Yay for good, if expensive, kitty news.
Don't pick Suzi! She needs to play with us.
Yay for good Teppy dad news.
My co-worker that had the dog with the swallowed hook. It moved. They were able to go in endoscopically and get it. That makes X number of x-rays. 2 endo procedures. 1 surgery. Oh yeah, good thing Mark doesn't have kids. His dog just cost him about $3000. Yikes. But yay for Remmy being hookless. Poor dog will probably never be allowed to run off leash again.
Oh. Poor pooch! And yay for movement and removal.
Bartleby's tummyache cost $500 last week.
He seems to be recovered if still a little gastro-challenged.
We went for a long walk on the tow-path (locked waterway next to the Potomac were mule-tugged barges used to roam) yesterday morning. He had a blast. Me? I got the aerobic exercise of being yanked along by him, AND the upperbody work out of pulling back to keep him from visiting the turtles in the middle of the river. He's obviously feeling better.
And yay for good kitty news too.
Jeebus, our pets will eat ANYthing, won't they...including us, starting with our wallets.
Good news: I received a Random Act of Kindness last week. My sister and I were parked at the curb and wondering how to proceed when it turned out the bookcase I bought on the cheap was much, much heavier than anticipated. Random guy driving past offered to help, and his girlfriend flashed the most beautiful proud smile. It took five minutes, everybody was happy and wished each other a happy weekend.
I am currently admiring the empty shelf space. It's full of possibility!
Bad news: Didn't get hired - again. Am slightly amused by the letter from HR, which starts out saying that since my experience and skills do not fit their current needs, they will continue to interview (Translation: You suck so much we wouldn't even think of having your geeky face in here every day). The letter concludes by wishing me luck in my career... at Their Organization. Inquiring minds wish to know, just exactly how is it that I will succeed in my career with you people if you won't hire me? I have evil fantasies about forwarding this letter to their President and telling him that it's a good thing his minion isn't hiring anyone smarter than herself.
So I'm in a blue funk. Even trying for the part-time crap jobs, I'm still unemployable. By now I think interviewers have a choice of objecting to my age, size, grayness and of course, the weirdness. People who like me think I'm entertaingly eccentric, but there's plenty of 'em out there who have no love for the likes of me. Alas. This is as bad as the dating scene.
That sucks, Katerina. I'm sorry.
