Happy Birthday DJ!

I mashed my toe going up the steps this morning and it bled all over the bathroom. and my lower back has hurt all the time for over a week now. wah wah wah.

stupid mondays.

Happy birthday, Daisy!!

Stupid Mondays. Except, I just got an awesome voicemail from last week that indicates I'm not going to get busted for something I kind of fucked up. I was supposed to send something to someone a couple of weeks ago, but needed to talk to my boss first. Between her being out of the office and me not wanting to talk to her, I didn't send it until Tuesday night. But on Wednesday, our big Boss got a voicemail from the other people saying, "We're so sorry we haven't gotten back to you before now, etc." -- just like if they had gotten my thing weeks ago like they were supposed to! OK, I realize this is semi-ridiculous, but it did get my morning off to a good start.

What did I do? I mean, really, exactly what did I do that was so horrible?

Let's sum up: large chunks of knuckle, gone. Kitchen fixture, on the fritz. Laptop screen, dark( backlight not lighting.) Out of half and half. And I forgot to reset my alarms.

I may need a day off.

Several people in my office took today off, and a couple more are out sick, so you'd be in good company...

Well, I'm already at work. I'm thinking a falling-apart day later if the week doesn't improve.

I'm not quite sure why I'm awake and at work right now. I suspect an alien mind control ray. Or possibly the Illuminati.

It gets BETTER!

(Well, ok, this is non-tragic, just dramarific.)

Cell phone rings in office while boss is in here. I didn't realize that a) I had it on me, or b) it was on. Anyway I call back the vet. Mister Kitty was accidentally given too low a dose one day, so they were just letting me know they'd done curves on him (at no charge to me) and will set up an appt in a couple weeks to do them again (no charge to me) because they screwed up. Anyway, too low is better than too high, and I'm not worried but GOODGODSTOPALREADY.

Happy Birthday, Daisy Jane!

And I realize I haven't given a Teddy update in a while. He's been home about a week and a half. He has to be kept still (no running or jumping) while the internal stitches heal, so he's in a crate for several weeks. It actually works fairly well for him -- Hubs got a crate for a large dog, so it's almost like a kitty studio apartment. On the other hand, the crate kind of dominates the living room. Hubs and I are taking turns sleeping on the couch, just in case a presence is needed during the night.

He's getting his immune suppressant every 12 hours. It's a liquid that we have to measure out and put into a capsule. He's also getting a few other medications (mostly antibiotics) that should end fairly soon. His weight as of last Monday was 5.75 pounds, which is still frighteningly thin but at least going up. His ribs and spine aren't nearly as prominent as they were just before his last surgery.

Based on the last bloodwork, the vets think he has an ulcer. So there are more meds. Luckily, the Pepcid can fit in the capsule with the immune suppressant. Unluckily, the other one can't be given within two hours of the immune suppressant. At least Hubs's sister is staying with us to help out, and she can give Teddy that med during the day when we aren't there. Also his subcutaneous ampicillin injection.

He's definitely feeling better. He's grooming, sharpening his claws, and taking an interest in the world around him. And he really sank his claws into me when I gave him his antibiotic this morning.

Rigatoni and Seamus, the donors, are settling in. Rigatoni is a 9-month-old bundle of energy that specializes in getting underfoot. He keeps Teddy entertained with his play. He also has Marie scared of him -- he wants to play, and she thinks he's attacking. Seamus is a 3.5-year-old big-boned orange tabby. He's somewhat shy and loves to nap in a chair by a window. He's scared of Max, who seems to want to attack him.

On the other hand, Max and Rigatoni seem to be getting along pretty well.

Next bloodwork -- tomorrow morning.

Dear universe, please stop picking on sarameg. Thanks.