and i should be scrubbing the floor right now, and i'm not. It's all icky and blood spattery.
and i have three patients due for treatments.
two dogs are whining, one cat is meowing and kicking litter out of his cage, another is hissing, and another one is just twitching. (that's what happens when you put dog flea medicine on cats. they twitch. well, first they seizure, then they twitch.)
michael stopped by for a while. it was quite nice. he is borrowing my military jacket and looks quite sexy in it. but he never stays long enough. I don't know how long "long enough" would be. but i was sad before he got here and happy while he was here and now i'm sad again.
I have stacks of paperwork i should be doing, and i cannot find the motivation.
A pomeranian named Willie, a dog i loved and would have taken into my home in a heartbeat, Flea's former constant companion at his previous home, was killed Friday night by coyotes. And i am quite sad about this.
/whining
things aren't bad. I should shut the hell up. i think i'm getting depressed, which is dealable and sometimes productive. I'm adjusting my sleep schedule back to its usual pattern. my first shift back is a twelve hour one. I have the promise of company after work sunday night. so i need to keep things in perspective. i need to care for the patients first.
ok. i think i feel a bit better now.
