*sigh*
4 am and I'm not even tired.
So now I'm a cat murdering psycho, according to my last ex-roomie. I have stayed awake all hours of the night nursing sick animals to health. I have woken up every two hours promptly to feed a sick or baby animal with no mommy. I worked at a non-kill puppy shelter for over a year. I've lost jobs taking care of small sick fuzzies because I thought they were more important. I hated my ex-rromie left her pregnant cat out on the porch in cold weather, and still remember that I wasnt surprised to find her dead. I remember working my ass off trying to find the orphaned kittens someone who could keep them all alive because I knew I didnt have time, and my roomie keeping one even after I found them a safe haven, depite all the kittens being in such critical condition from lack of proper care that they wound up in an oxygen tent at the vet's office. I remember her chewing me out because I tried to talk her out of that kitten, and its loud squalling cries of lonliness as she ignored the fuck out of it because "all babies have to learn you wont pay attention to them all the time," something she said while it was still so young that, by rights of nature, it would still be with its littermates and snuggled against mommy's warm heartbeat. I remember how skitzoid the klitten acted forever after, even though it lived.
I remember as I worked overtime to find them proper care, even taking time off my job to drive them to safety, she was asleep in her bed in the middle of the day, and wasnt even trying to get them help.
But its all my fault, dont you know? She would know, she yelled it loud and clear as I walked through the drum circle; "There's the psycho-bitch who killed my cat!" So now I have to wonder, how many people has she told? What other lies has she made up? Does she really believe them? And all those people I want to know, a whole communbity I want to be a part of, the fire dancers I wanted to meet, all gone because of gossip, rumors, and lies.
....fuck.
So now its the guy I loved, the guy I am crushing on heavily, and my ex-roomie who I've respected and whom I havent said a bad word about. They all think I'm some sort of freakoid psycho-bitch.
So...yeah...I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me.
And in that vein, here's your message for the day:
May the horse be with you
This reminds me of the story of the symphony director, his wife, and the waif girl he took in from the cold. True story, Iknew the waif girl personally, in fact, she stole my watch.
Excuse me, I have to go be wide awake now. My plan is to drink myself blind before the end of the night.
Good night all.
4 am and I'm not even tired.
So now I'm a cat murdering psycho, according to my last ex-roomie. I have stayed awake all hours of the night nursing sick animals to health. I have woken up every two hours promptly to feed a sick or baby animal with no mommy. I worked at a non-kill puppy shelter for over a year. I've lost jobs taking care of small sick fuzzies because I thought they were more important. I hated my ex-rromie left her pregnant cat out on the porch in cold weather, and still remember that I wasnt surprised to find her dead. I remember working my ass off trying to find the orphaned kittens someone who could keep them all alive because I knew I didnt have time, and my roomie keeping one even after I found them a safe haven, depite all the kittens being in such critical condition from lack of proper care that they wound up in an oxygen tent at the vet's office. I remember her chewing me out because I tried to talk her out of that kitten, and its loud squalling cries of lonliness as she ignored the fuck out of it because "all babies have to learn you wont pay attention to them all the time," something she said while it was still so young that, by rights of nature, it would still be with its littermates and snuggled against mommy's warm heartbeat. I remember how skitzoid the klitten acted forever after, even though it lived.
I remember as I worked overtime to find them proper care, even taking time off my job to drive them to safety, she was asleep in her bed in the middle of the day, and wasnt even trying to get them help.
But its all my fault, dont you know? She would know, she yelled it loud and clear as I walked through the drum circle; "There's the psycho-bitch who killed my cat!" So now I have to wonder, how many people has she told? What other lies has she made up? Does she really believe them? And all those people I want to know, a whole communbity I want to be a part of, the fire dancers I wanted to meet, all gone because of gossip, rumors, and lies.
....fuck.
So now its the guy I loved, the guy I am crushing on heavily, and my ex-roomie who I've respected and whom I havent said a bad word about. They all think I'm some sort of freakoid psycho-bitch.
So...yeah...I'm starting to wonder what's wrong with me.
And in that vein, here's your message for the day:
May the horse be with you
This reminds me of the story of the symphony director, his wife, and the waif girl he took in from the cold. True story, Iknew the waif girl personally, in fact, she stole my watch.
Excuse me, I have to go be wide awake now. My plan is to drink myself blind before the end of the night.
Good night all.