I was just sitting here bullying Scott into improving the blurb on his web site (It's already a lot better, but I'm taking votes here on what you honestly think of the text. Do you like the nine year old boy line, are there too many references to his influences, any ideas or inspiration to share?) when I started hearing this wrinkly paper shooshing sound behind me. I turned around just in time to see a paper bag suck itself under a piece of furniture. What the F was that? Much darting of eyes about the room, quick stock taking of animals, all three ferrets in cage, chinchilla in cage, many rats. What the hell is this, some kind of enormous freaking spider? Wait a second, where is Mister Brown Rat? Oh, look a giant gaping hole in the side of his cage where a food bowl used to be. Oh I get it someone thought it would be a groovy idea to borrow Mr. B's bowl to put in another cage, so they wouldn't have to walk down the stairs to get another one. That left Mr. B free to chew chew chew for God knows how many hours. Hey, at least he didn't destroy my DSL cable with his tiny hands and sharp pointy teeth, the way Chinchie the Chinchilla once did. Thank God he's okay.
This was a nervous stressy tense day. I've been having more and more of these. Something will upset or surprise me and then the tension will build from there until my neck and shoulders get so tight they burn, and all I can do is lay down. I finally gave in and took half of a Xanax which at least brought the pain in my neck down a notch or two. I had no idea how little time I had left before I'll be gone for most of the Summer. The idea of leaving my beloved pets and my home in the hands of a stranger is really upsetting me. I'm going to have to have Esther stay with her for at least a few weeks, which means doubling up on the salaries I will have to pay. Spending my dwindling inheritance.
This was also the first time Beau went far away on a trip for the day with his Father. My old beloved family would all be there, driving in the car with Robby, (my maybe-he's-my-ex, who knows, my divorce attorney sucks and I'm about to fire her,) and his teenage fucking girlfriend. The one who showed Beau so much compassion when he showed her his hurting toe, "Eeeeew, gross." was all the compassion she was able to muster. I was worrying his selfish immature father would drink, drive drunk, and crash. I wanted to turn it over, be a good Mom, support his relationship with his father, not overreact. I kept my promise to take my eighty-five-or-six year old Mother to the movies where I watched three hours of Tom Cruise, again.
I gave up on dinner because I hurt too much, came home, lay down, got up, fed crying cats, got bit, a lot, by playfully insane posse of black teenager cats, waited for Beau, listened, with a hurting smile, to him talk about how much fun it was to be with former family, people you love and miss but can no longer hang out with, fed him, listened to him cry when he spilled his pasta. Got really really stressed and sore, took pill, laid down, got bit some more, ran for the office, argued with boyfriend about the rewrite I did for his page that he almost completely ignored, sensed something weird, captured renegade rat with raspberry cookie lure. Listened to more Fourth of July terrorist attack fear mongering. Am now wondering about that other half of a Xanax...
Fuck it I'm eating candy.