Hello! I am pleased to report that I am still here, and still cranky. Maybe I am not pleased to be cranky, I guess, but there you have it. A couple of nights ago, Otto and I had iteration number seven thousand or so of the conversation where he says he misses my writing, and I say that nothing interesting and/or suitable to tell the world about has happened because my life is actually super boring, and he says that's not true, and I tell him he's not the boss of me. (Being married to me is a treat, I am sure.) I thought about it and realized I actually have plenty of things to complain...
In the grand scheme of Big Life Problems, everything is fine. Let's start with that. Because I am about to launch into a carnival of bitchery and I KNOW someone will want to bright-side it somehow or say it could definitely be worse, and you know how I feel about Hardship Olympics. So. Is my family okay; is anything on fire? Yes, and no. But am I going to complain anyway? You betcha. Not in the mood for such? That's fine. Catch you next time when I'm back to being funny, I guess. Where to begin, where to begin? I think let's start with the timeline/history of my involvement with this local...
When we last left off, all manner of plague had swept through the house, Goose was about to have an eyeball removed, and I was very busy falling in love with every single foster who came through the door, all of whom Goose hated. I was very blasé about the surgery thing right up until the actual day. Then I was a nervous wreck. But all went well, they did a great job of making sure Goose wasn't in any pain during her recovery, and there were really only two noteworthy issues in the aftermath. First, that Goose just does not understand how to navigate the world in a cone. At all. She would go...
Once again, I came, I saw, I blogged, and then I disappeared. If only this was a marketable skill, I would have so much more money than I actually do. (Other things I wish were marketable skills: insomnia, snacking, still getting zits in middle age, being a hermit, and swearing.) (Honestly, I am SO GOOD at all of those things! It's unfair that my superpowers go unrecognized, is all I'm saying.) There was Holiday Hubbub and Dog Hubbub and Other Hubbub I would very much like to know where the word "hubbub" came from, just on general principle and also because after I type it a few times it...
I did not mean to leave things on such a down note, last time, but you know how it goes. Life has a way of barreling forward whether you're ready for it or not. So now it's---*checking calendar*---nearly December, and there is so very much news to share! That's a lie. I mean, very little of it is actual news, but I will share it anyway, because ye olde blog here is now old enough to vote, so why stop now? As Otto says, I always have many words, and it's simply for his safety that I spew some of them somewhere other than directly at him. (True story: last night when he arrived home from work...
It's been... oh, nearly a couple of months. I would love to tell you that I was extremely busy living life to the fullest during this time, but that would be a lie. Mostly I was busy 1) being cold (yes, Georgia winters are short, but I am a delicate flower and our brief very cold portions of the year always kind of sneak up on me), 2) baking things, because why not, 3) cutting my own hair (this started during the pandemic and as I am nothing if not lazy, I am slooooowly perfecting my technique, which mostly consists of a lot of swearing and getting hair all over my bathroom), and 4) dealing...
Good news: I'm back again, in under a month! With the words, and stuff! Bad news: Nothing interesting ever happens here except as it pertains to the dogs. If you aren't interested in dogs, first of all, what is wrong with you, and second, this is not going to be very interesting. When we last left off, everything was broken and/or deeply annoyed. Goose was in a cone and battling her mortal enemy, thrice-daily eye drops, and our house was presumably about to burst into flames due to faulty wiring, which would've been sad but also most of our electronics were already fried so, eh. We are now...
Look at me---it hasn't even been a whole month, and here I am again. Writing! Like some sort of... writer! Who does things with words on a regular basis! That's weird. Anyhoodle, here we are, having survived the holidays and *gestures vaguely* everything else, so that's good, right? I would love to tell you a fun story about how Goose has settled in to being officially ours by being even more ridiculous than usual, but basically she's just peak ridiculous all the time, so there's not much to tell there. I do hope to have a fun tale when the weather warms up, though, as her current favorite...
A few weeks after we received Goose, and about a week after we said goodbye to Licorice, my phone started lighting up with messages from the rescue. Possibility of a owner surrender, yorkie/dachshund mix, 10 years old; could I take her? Otto has always said we have a two-dog maximum. Well. I had just one dog, now, and even I was growing tired of my moping around and spending all my spare time crying (side note: my parents were very much of the "shield young children from death" variety, and while I'm not blaming them for the profound grief I found myself mired in after Licorice died, allow...
