~ It's Been Over A Week ~
since The Butter died and I've cried every damned day.
Thank God for Ambien. I seriously think I would have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn't been able to get some sleep. At times I almost feel guilty for eating.
I'm very reluctant to get any fast food since there is no one to share it with. The Butter loved french fries. She wasn't particular about the place, either. McD's, Wendy's, BK - she didn't care. She liked them all.
And she loved fish, too. I thought that was rather odd for a dog but sometimes she behaved more like a cat (the yoga thing, for example) so I guess it's fitting she loved her fishy-fish.
So if I stopped anywhere and got anything she always got to sample it. (Now don't tell the vet that but I just couldn't resist that little fangy ? face she would give me). Everyone SAYS she was spoiled but that's just because they never meet The Creature. HE is spoiled. Molly was just on her way to being spoiled but Wheeze is already there.
Dad wants me to get another one and I have considered it. I've even found a Peke rescue in the area that I've been eyeing. I absolutely will get another rescue dog. No question.
Also, one of the ladies I work with has a "friend of a friend" who works at a vet's office and apparently they have a lot of connections for abandoned animals so I might ask her to keep an eye out for a Peke for me.
I'm a little partial to Pekes because I love them. And not everyone can have one (or stand one, truth be told). Most of them don't like kids and some of them can be very protective and VERY particular. Not like hounds or labs or spaniels (altho I would love a pack of hounds or a Cavalier spaniel). Just about anyone can be a "big dog" to them because of their easy natures.
So there it is. I want another one - maybe two (Molly was supposed to come with a companion who ironically died before I could adopt her) and I want one from a rescue.
I think I'm still mourning Aunt Bea and Uncle Barry as well. And Kim. Sometimes it just seems like I can't stop crying. The only thing that seems to help me not cry is to exercise. As odd as that sounds it makes me feel a little better anyway. Just pedaling that bike or doing some weights seems to help me stop crying and at this point, I don't care what works.
I'd like to skate but my heart just isn't in it (as sad as that sounds). Maybe because skating makes me happy and I don't feel like I *should* be happy since The Butter isn't here.
And this FUCKING FUCK SNOW isn't helping anything. My God, I HATE this SHIT!!! FUCK! I'm so fucking sick and tired of this fucking snow. I'm sick and tired of wearing a fucking coat and 10 layers of clothes so I don't freeze to death.
I'm sick of fucking boots and fucking climbing up on the roof to clean off the dish. I'm sick of fucking hat head, long underwear and building a fucking fire every fucking night so I don't freeze my ass off.
FUCK I've got cabin fever. I swear if someone built a snowman, I'd shoot the fucker (the snowman, not the builder). DEATH TO SNOW!!
I'm sick of fucking shoveling the fucking driveway every fucking day. Of not being able to reach the fucking mailbox because of the fucking 5' drift in front of it. I'm sick of hauling wood, dumping ashes and dragging snow all over the house. FUCKING SICK OF IT.
It needs to STOP NOW. Immediately. We have all agreed we hate it and we're sick of it so KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF!!
It's as if the weather is just as fucking miserable as I am. Fuck. That's all I have to say.
Oh, maybe I'll tell you what I've been reading. In case you're looking for something to keep you busy while you're fucking snowed in!
The Jewel of the Seven Stars by Bram Stoker. About an Ancient Egyptian Queen's bid for resurrection in early 20th century England. Very gothic and just absolutely seething with Victorian morals and language. I rather liked it and had forgotten how much I enjoyed that style of horror novel.
Murder of a Medici Princess by Caroline Murphy. Something I would normally devour but I just haven't been in the mood. Non-fiction history.
And, of course, my old standby-fall-back-what-I-re-read-over-the-summer-when-I-didn't-have TV: the Matthew Bartholomew Series by Susanna Gregory. Medieval mysteries about a physician and a monk in Cambridge, England.
I'm listening to Clubbers Guide 2009. Will kick your ASS.
Also, appropriately BB King because I've had it bad.
Recommendations from others:
From Robin - the Dean Koontz "Frankenstein" series. Mom highly recommends them as well.
Dad likes the Foxfire Series by Eliot Wigginton. Old timey country living at it's best!
The Rogue Goddess saw shadows dancing at 7:44 PM
~The Mighty Nephy~
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