I am 34 days from moving from North Carolina to Nevada, and…..
- We have a complete failure as president who has no concept of how to handle crisis, and in fact creates crises, and as a result
- We are in pandemic that is only going to get worse, and I have a chronic lung disease and compromised immune system that make this an especially dangerous time for me.
- We are in a time of extreme civil unrest
- He’s ugly and his mama dresses him funny.
- Drew crushed my foot as we were disassembling a bed. I’m supposed to be staying off of it, which makes it hard to pack.
- Drew has developed an abscess in a very personal part of his anatomy and may need surgery, today.
- I can’t go with him (I usually go with him to his appointments and lately have been staying in the car with him) because I have to stay home to wait for our property management company to send us someone to fix yet another representation of the crappy work that was done when this home was built. Last night, our sink separated from the counter. This sink was glued in. No supports. No braces. JUST GLUE. Now we must wait for our tight ass prop management company to send out various contractors to bid on the repair. So, with my compromised immune system, I have to let various people into my home to deal with this situation.
- And finally, one of my dogs has decided to play sick. They are large breed, senior dogs. I know my time with them is coming to a close, so any change in behavior makes my heart quiver. So Chunk has begun a habit of just staring at me when I put his food down in front of him. You have to understand that my dogs are all from the same litter. They all practically inhale their food so they don’t have to compete with each other for it. My baby girl used to pick up her bowl and run off with it before she would eat. (Thank Dog she stopped doing that before we moved here, because it’s a full flight of stairs from the deck on which they eat and sleep to the rest of the yard, which is uneven and much like a jungle). So when Chunk doesn’t immediately begin snarfing his food, I worry. I pat him and sweet talk him and try to get him to eat. He just continues to stare at me with those big beautiful eyes. Last night, I was exhausted. I was trying to get the sink situation dealt with, I hadn’t eaten, and my condition makes me tired, anyway. So after several minutes of coaxing, I kissed him on the head and came back inside. But I peeked out the blinds as soon as the door was closed, and the little faker was gobbling his food. It’s a good thing for him that he’s gorgeous. 💝