Every time i feel a little earthquake, some evil part of me hopes that i'm feeling the rumblings of a very, very big earthquake somewhere else. Like, "OC fell into the ocean and all i got was this cracked window!"
I have a stamp on my arm that my evening shower didn't quite remove, the result of a small stamp war at work. It says: "OK to PTD". PTD = Put to Death. And it's funny - today, my boss gave me authorization to "sign off" animals under certain conditions. Up until now I could only sign off animals with a supervisors authorization.
It's nice to be trusted with the responsibility, but it certainly does feel like a weird thing to be proud of. Nothing at the shelter is like anywhere else I've ever worked, though.
Up on the wall in the euthanasia room is a promo poster for some veterinary drug company. "Pets get diabetes too", it says. It seems like it's beyond anything the pets in the e-room are going to be worried about.
There's a little chihuahua there I'm totally in love with. No one tell Flea, okay? He's got a minor, treatable medical problem, and a bit of the typical chihuahua personality, but he's sweet as pie to me. So I've had him stashed in the clinic since his neuter last week, hoping to dodge the euthanasia committee long enough to get him to a rescue group. We should hear tomorrow whether one is going to pick him up. If I could take every one home ...
Marlene invited me out tonight, and it would have been a lot of fun, but I had to decline. Sleep deprivation has been the theme of the weekend - the theme of every day since i got home from the river - and i've got work tomorrow. Someday I'll get out to that Upland gay bar.
So much else going on ... a trip to Vegas in the works, pink light-up flamingos for the backyard, finances (great and small) on my mind ... but for now, i'm going to cuddle with the Flea.