Scrappy, would J & you having a conversation with your vet help? I could feel it was time with Devi and was petrified I was making the decision for ME, not her (because watching her decline was really rough) and holy crap, that's an awful feeling. I had to spill all that to the vet so he could tell me what I knew was real and that it was only going to be worse, but without the personal baggage. And that was just with only me to make the call and I KNEW. It's hard and sad.

And wow, I was gonna post about how fried I am, and just writing that, even though I've spoken about it before and remained composed, just made me have a mini-weepfest. Yeah, today was another doozy. Half the day in meetings with some heavy uncomfortable politics. I just can't even. I can deal with days crammed like this now and then, but this has been a long slog of 'em.

Happiest of birthdays erika! May this be your best year yet.

Matt, I'm digging B. I love that look, but I can see how they might not be comfy.

Scrappy, much ease and peace upon your heart. Strength to you.

Jilli, I am _certain_ you are better off and it's nice that your co-workers acknowledge that. I'm glad the day went easily for you.

Oh, we did speak to the vet. She said if he hadn't improved, he wasn't going to. But J's feeling is that he's stable, so as long as he eats a few bites and isn't in pain, we should let him be.

Perception of stable (and whether this stable is actually a good thing) is hard.

Got new downspout, months later. Now, I'm not sure if I'm happy. The catcher box is a bit below the roofspout. This is not standard. Heavy rain could make it shoot over the catcher. Dreading calling tomorrow. I don't get it, I've always liked their work before (mine & others) but this seems dodgy. Fuck this week.

J probably just needs a little more time, Scrappy. When he sees that improvement isn't really going to happen, he may think again.

When Hubby's cat Mondu was on his way out, Hubby was certain he saw improvement. It wasn't until Mondu actually died that Hubby had to acknowledge the truth. Hubby felt like he'd made Mondu's last weeks worse than they had to be. I was pretty sure Mondu wasn't long for the world, but I didn't want to get into the debate of convincing Hubby to put down the cat he adored and who adored him back.

edit: And Mondu was just getting slower and quieter, he wasn't in any apparent pain, and he still enjoyed laying on Hubby's chest as they silent communed.

Thanks Jilli, I'm glad your last day turned out well. And as others have said, you'll be better off.

I'm having the kind of day where I've already had to use four SHOUT wipes, so I'm stained and bedraggled and viciously chomping on potato chips.

The other day I managed to stab myself with a shoe.

Currently my eye is hurting because yesterday I smacked myself in the eyeball with the ironing board. Luckily my eye was closed at the time (so like, my cornea isn't scratched) but my whole eyeball hurts. Ow.

Burrell, be kind to yourself. You deserve it.

I had dinner with an exgirlfriend tonight, which was fun, but damn, I didn't realize it had been right years!! Time flies. Dang.

right years?

Hah. Autocorrect. Eight years.

Also, it is only 830 at home but I am so ready to go to bed. Yet somehow I suspect that will not make tomorrow morning's super early central-time alarm any easier. Ick. Hate time changes.