Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Shit fuck damn...
No, more like just shit. I'm back dog-sitting, and I'm pissed. They're in deep denial about how much Zuni has declined - their note said she 'has accidents now and then'... they neglected to mention she's incontinent, obese, and can't walk!!!!!!!!!! We've done the vet thing.... little has changed - apparently this is her at her new baseline... I'm trapped here for two weeks and I can't keep her or the house remotely clean. They refuse to board her. I love them and I love her, but it'll be a cold day in HELL before I take on this gig again!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's monsooning outside - can't wait to take Zuni out (I half carry and half drag her cuz I can't quite lift her myself... she's easily over 80 lbs... ). I'm surrounded by shit, right down to the mouse who knawed a whole in my cheesy poof bag, ate the tops off my cheesy poofs, and left a bunch of tiny mouse turds inside the bag :(. They live in the country - I have no issues with mice, except when they take dumps in my food...
Oh yeah - I passed the infamous doctoral qualifer examine - anti-climatic. Now I'm plugging away on the dissertation - I'm on take III of ch 1 - at this rate... well... it's gonna be a haul. Good thing I have a good clinical gig and part-time teaching work...
I'm outta smokes and beer... I just sucked down a mug of champagne in their hottub, trying to relax. My anxiety is out the wazoo - Prozac isn't touching it... guess it's really not supposed to though. I'm leaving Saturday morning - can't come soon enough!!! I can't seem to chill out. Or focus. I just want to drink and smoke and watch cable until I fall asleep (not while smoking, of course...). I really really want to be home in my own space. I teach tomorrow, but have a guest speaker :).
I guess this is my journal when I'm here - somehow I always forget my paper journal when I come here, which is how I started blogging in the first place.
What do I have energy for?? Well, we're looking for a house, and I'm totally into that as a gig of sorts. I want to go to South Africa or Swaziland or Kenya. I'm getting interested in horses again. I like doing diagnostic assessments at work, although I'm well aware that I'm inscribing the medical model upon people... I can't offer a better option, though. I myself partake in the pharmecutical relief people come asking for, and my whole family is arguably mentally ill (some of us more than others). And as always, I love my animals.
I'm tired of the dissertation already. My advisor keeps making me rewrite and his style is so academic. I think he's sick of me, and maybe I'm getting sick of him. In fact, I'm sort of sick of the whole doctoral gig.
Les and I are okay. She's totally had health and somatic issues and has needed much care-giving until lately. I wonder what it'd be like to be with someone more financially stable and more healthy and more mature than me. She was offended when I said I sometimes felt like I was the adult and she was the kid in the relationship. But we both know I was accurately describing our dynamic - I manage our money, I'm always bailing her out of financial scraps and I pay for most stuff. Good thing she's a good lover - that helps a lot. I'm 33, she's 40. Feels like she's 20 a lot of the time... Except with drinking. She doesn't know how much I drink. She's in AA, and excessive drinking is a deal breaker for her. She's fairly rigid and judgemental re: alcohol consumption. She keeps track of how much I drink when I drink in front of her, and I feel self-conscious, and try to drink less with her and more with others, which has in effect shifted my drinking habits from drinking frequently and moderately to less frequently and more heavily. I'd say I'm now an occassional alcohol abuser/binger. I've been pounding all week in this literal shithole. I guess in that way she's the 'adult' and I get 'in trouble'. I wonder what it'd be like to be with a partner who wasn't bipolar and alcoholic (both Les and my ex fit this description...)
What the hell - I heard footsteps upstairs, but realized I'm not home and there is no 'upstairs' here. Maybe it is raccoons or the rain... Cinder doesn't seem worried, and she's very into guarding and protecting... Still, it's odd.
No, more like just shit. I'm back dog-sitting, and I'm pissed. They're in deep denial about how much Zuni has declined - their note said she 'has accidents now and then'... they neglected to mention she's incontinent, obese, and can't walk!!!!!!!!!! We've done the vet thing.... little has changed - apparently this is her at her new baseline... I'm trapped here for two weeks and I can't keep her or the house remotely clean. They refuse to board her. I love them and I love her, but it'll be a cold day in HELL before I take on this gig again!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's monsooning outside - can't wait to take Zuni out (I half carry and half drag her cuz I can't quite lift her myself... she's easily over 80 lbs... ). I'm surrounded by shit, right down to the mouse who knawed a whole in my cheesy poof bag, ate the tops off my cheesy poofs, and left a bunch of tiny mouse turds inside the bag :(. They live in the country - I have no issues with mice, except when they take dumps in my food...
Oh yeah - I passed the infamous doctoral qualifer examine - anti-climatic. Now I'm plugging away on the dissertation - I'm on take III of ch 1 - at this rate... well... it's gonna be a haul. Good thing I have a good clinical gig and part-time teaching work...
I'm outta smokes and beer... I just sucked down a mug of champagne in their hottub, trying to relax. My anxiety is out the wazoo - Prozac isn't touching it... guess it's really not supposed to though. I'm leaving Saturday morning - can't come soon enough!!! I can't seem to chill out. Or focus. I just want to drink and smoke and watch cable until I fall asleep (not while smoking, of course...). I really really want to be home in my own space. I teach tomorrow, but have a guest speaker :).
I guess this is my journal when I'm here - somehow I always forget my paper journal when I come here, which is how I started blogging in the first place.
What do I have energy for?? Well, we're looking for a house, and I'm totally into that as a gig of sorts. I want to go to South Africa or Swaziland or Kenya. I'm getting interested in horses again. I like doing diagnostic assessments at work, although I'm well aware that I'm inscribing the medical model upon people... I can't offer a better option, though. I myself partake in the pharmecutical relief people come asking for, and my whole family is arguably mentally ill (some of us more than others). And as always, I love my animals.
I'm tired of the dissertation already. My advisor keeps making me rewrite and his style is so academic. I think he's sick of me, and maybe I'm getting sick of him. In fact, I'm sort of sick of the whole doctoral gig.
Les and I are okay. She's totally had health and somatic issues and has needed much care-giving until lately. I wonder what it'd be like to be with someone more financially stable and more healthy and more mature than me. She was offended when I said I sometimes felt like I was the adult and she was the kid in the relationship. But we both know I was accurately describing our dynamic - I manage our money, I'm always bailing her out of financial scraps and I pay for most stuff. Good thing she's a good lover - that helps a lot. I'm 33, she's 40. Feels like she's 20 a lot of the time... Except with drinking. She doesn't know how much I drink. She's in AA, and excessive drinking is a deal breaker for her. She's fairly rigid and judgemental re: alcohol consumption. She keeps track of how much I drink when I drink in front of her, and I feel self-conscious, and try to drink less with her and more with others, which has in effect shifted my drinking habits from drinking frequently and moderately to less frequently and more heavily. I'd say I'm now an occassional alcohol abuser/binger. I've been pounding all week in this literal shithole. I guess in that way she's the 'adult' and I get 'in trouble'. I wonder what it'd be like to be with a partner who wasn't bipolar and alcoholic (both Les and my ex fit this description...)
What the hell - I heard footsteps upstairs, but realized I'm not home and there is no 'upstairs' here. Maybe it is raccoons or the rain... Cinder doesn't seem worried, and she's very into guarding and protecting... Still, it's odd.
Comments:
Post a Comment
