Monday, May 16, 2011

There is no way this day was real.

Sometimes you have bad days. Sometimes you have good days. Sometimes you have days that seem like they lasted for 18 hours and it isn't even dinner time yet. Today was one of those days.

Woke up to NCH peeing on the bed at 6 am. (we have had some stress related problems with him since we lost Kobers) There was blood in it. Fuck.

Stripped the bed and went downstairs to the basement, which led to a long, serious conversation with the boy that should never be had at 6 am.

Attempted to go back to sleep. Failed.

Called the vet, made an appointment for 10 am.

Attempted to go back to sleep. Failed.

Took Neil to the vet where I waited for AN HOUR before they would see me. The only option was sedating him and getting tests done. To the tune of $360. Fuck. While waiting, had to reschedule 2 job interviews. Guess who is not getting hired? Crazy cat girl.

Went to the only remaining job interview. Have a preview shift during Saturday night dinner rush. Fuck. That is just cruel and unusual, people. Cruel and unusual.

Got asked during my interview if I had a problem with the typical vulgarity in kitchens, because I am a woman and all. I almost directed him to my blog.

Met Iceburg Jones for lunch, wherein I had to tell him that we can't take on a roommate right now. Felt horrible, but he made me laugh, which made me feel better. Also, he might have still been asleep. And should change his name to Mark.

Came home and FINALLY took a nap. Woke up to the vet calling. Neil was awake and there was blood in his urine. Thank God for your veterinary medicine degree. I HAD NO IDEA. The tests revealed nothing else. Shoot me in my broke ass face.

$100 in antibiotics and more kitty Xanax (yes, this is round 2 of anti anxiety medication FOR MY CAT) and prescription diet to help his urinary tract issues. Which they found no sign of, but are just guessing that is the case. You know, because of their dynamite urine in the blood diagnosis. 

They bring him out in his cat carrier and he is FLIPPING out. I open the carrier and he buries himself in my lap. And pees. All over me. In the lobby of the vet office. While I wait for his prescriptions. FOR TWENTY MINUTES.

We drive home, Neil clinging to me the whole way. I attempt to give him a bath, which ends in him leaping over the counter, spraying pee and water all over the kitchen. I strip off all my clothes and take a shower, resolving myself to a house covered in cat pee.

I contemplate curling up in the fetal position until the boy gets home.

I give Neil his antibiotic, getting bit in the process, and his kitty Xanax. 

I open a beer and think, WHY THE FUCK DO PEOPLE GET UP THIS EARLY. IT IS SIX MORE HOURS OF SHIT GOING TERRIBLY, TERRIBLY WRONG. I AM NEVER GETTING UP BEFORE NOON AGAIN.

Do you think that kitty Xanax would work on humans?

2 comments:

Josey said...

Oh God Sarah, what a suck ass day. I hope those beers are going down WELL for you tonight.

Big Jed said...

Take the kitty Xanax. Now. Wait 20 minutes. If you feel nothing, take another one. Repeat until unconscious. When NCH pees on you, at least you won't know.