Took Xiao Wen to the vet this morning, he's had a runny eye for over a week and I was getting concerned. He has seasonal allergies which lead to little bald spots (heaven forbid I have a "normal" pet) but this didn't seem to get any better with doses of Benadryl.
My vet did a corneal stain at first to make sure there wasn't a damage to his eye, seemed like an allergy problem to her too but it was odd that it only happened in one of his eyes. Turns out he has a clogged tear duct brought on by his allergies. He howled the entire way to the vet and back, poor thing... he's got some eye drops and will hopefully be all perked up in a couple days.
I haven't put any eye drops in, I'm going to try before I leave for work this morning - I'm certain he is not going to appreciate the attention!
I started looking for apartments today... I know I've only been trying a short time but it's discouraging. Realty offices would probably prefer leprosy to 4 cats. Even when I do find an apartment (fingers crossed), it will be small... maybe 600 square feet?
Oh well, these are my cats and they're not going anywhere that I'm not going. Paxil and Wendy sat next to me while I was calling around, they looked a little concerned... I bet they know I'm talking about them.
I got my notice yesterday.
I was trying to do something relatively meaningless today and Wendy just would not let me. I very nicely moved her... she came back. I moved her a little more aggressively... back again. It would be nice if any of us in life got to feel that self-assured. Wendy knows that she's just been rebuffed, but is also completely certain that she'll be accepted next time. Or next time. Or next time. She simply doesn't give up.
One of the reasons I didn't really want Wendy curling up on me is because there was a flea discovery last night... eww. That's simply disgusting. I hate for anything to die, but I got out of bed and spent 2 hours brushing the cats and killing fleas. Paxil had the worst of it, I suppose because he's so incredibly fluffy and gets bad hair snarls. Brushing Paxil was a two-person job; Steve held him and I commenced with flea removal. Oddly, even though Paxil was subjected to this for quite a long time, he didn't really put up much of a fight. He's a big cat (about 16 lbs) and could probably do some damage if so inclined, but I don't know of anything he's ever intentionally scratched except for the sofa.
It occurred to me that even though I have found fleas (plural, no adjective), I've never found "a flea" (singular). Instead I have found: a damn flea. another damn flea. yet another goddamned flea. This type of infestation reduces my vocabulary but increases my ability to swear. I digress.
Everybody else seemed to enjoy the brushing, Wendy usually hates holding still but I gave her a plastic hanger to chew on and she was perfectly content. It's amazing how much they will simply put up with, apparently just making the assumption that "Mom is doing something so let's just humor her." They're so willing for me to impose my will upon them... I really shouldn't begrudge Wendy that lap time when I'm not doing anything necessary or even noteworthy.
My point here is simply that it's wrong of me to move the cats out of the way when I'm not actually doing something that can't be interrupted. It's been an hour and I don't remember what it was that Wendy was preventing, how worthy a pursuit could it have been?
Little scattered today, this all had perfectly fluid structure in my head...
I'm depressed today. :-(
I think it's the stress of putting more into something than you are getting in return. Of course not everything in the world is always divided equitably, but at some point it's not so great when you're always the person who comes up short in the end. Steve is spending most of my awake-time sleeping, which means I'm alone most of the time. Yesterday he woke up at 3:30. I was gone for over 3 hours yesterday and he never even knew.
I know that he cares, and I know he doesn't want to intentionally hurt me. But I just don't know what the hell is his problem... is there something wrong with me? I feel unwanted and rejected.
"Exactly!"
Lately, I wake up most mornings and berate myself for not swallowing all my pills the night before. The way I feel is horrible, I just want it to go away. I'm so tired.
