Rainy, crappy day

Trapped in the house by rain and house guests. [I had to take out everything that I was going to write here because Dr. Boy had a meltdown. Fucking communist that I live with lives in terror that we will inadvertently offend someone if I refer to anyone or anything at any time. So, while I have to filter out half of my fucking life in this blog, now I will have to remove another piece. Welcome to my completely sanitized world. He would prefer that I am not negative and never write anything I wouldn't say to someone's face, but to that I can only respond that he is SHIT OUT OF LUCK. Please feel free to email me to get my thoughts on what is really going on around me. Except that I never write anyone back, which was the POINT. Stupid boyfriend. I was going to be nice to him too - he made me cocoa.]

Anyway, most of my plans for the day have been dashed. I was going to start job-hunting, and do some Halloween invitation design reconnaissance as a reward. Sigh, tomorrow. I do need to call the vet because Playful and Scared are both having respiratory issues. Kind of embarrassing, because the last time I was in, I nearly fainted. I had spent 2 hours locked in a little room under an examination light with Playful and Grumpy. And, right at the point that we were torturing poor Grumpy under the lamp, it suddenly hit me that I was very warm and had not eaten. But, now the vet thinks I'm squeamish. Squeamish! Me! I won't get into details, but I'll say that I spent more than my fair share of time dissecting, dismembering, and upsetting animals at the Zoo. Animals needed to be medicated, disposed of, and I was never once woozy. Ugh, it just makes me crazy. And, then to make it all worse, he called Dr. Boy to tell him and apologize for upsetting his wife.

I lack the vocabulary to properly express the frustration and anger that I feel at this moment.

I have been over it with these people AGAIN and AGAIN that I am NOT Mrs. Dr. Boy, and that Grumpy is NOT a member of the Dr. Boy family, and that I want my own goddamned record under my own goddamned name. To no avail. So, instead, I get treated like a head case when it comes to mentioning Dr. Boy, my hus-part-boyfriend. It's not that hard, and they make me feel so stupid that I end up just answering to Mrs. Dr. Boy.

On the good side, the vet, who is a wonderful man though terribly long-winded is now really succinct when we have to talk. And, I love his approach to Los Gatos' care and how well they've been doing since he's been out vet. Our old vet was squirrelly and pompous, and he's lost the money he'd make off of our 4 cats.

Side note - there's something strange with the dates on this blog. Somewhere in early June, they rewrote into May. How very odd.

XOXO,

M