The girls being bad upon 'discovering' oxygen tubing. Probably Zoey's idea.
No, I'm not sorry to you, or to me, or to anyone for lastnight's rant, I'm sorry to Jenny (you remember her, i worked with her last summer), whose precious cat Rainbow died unexpectedly yesterday. Rainbow was 18 years old, and I am very very sorry to Jenny. Sometimes the loss of a pet is ginormous in comparison to a person almost. It's bizarre b/c sometimes with pets, you just always expect them to be there. Always.
I told her i understood: when I was in grade 9 my precious Squeaky (aka the Squeakmobile) died suddenly from Feline Liver Disease. He was 14 and was gone in a matter of 10 days. We rushed him to the cat clinic (aptly in the same place that was formerly Red Lobster but now known as the Cat Killing Place to me and my sister), where his problem was discovered. I was gutted. I was a year older than Squeak - we grew up together. No matter how much i mauled him, or I bothered him, or dressed him up and made him dance, he was always there...ready to steal things, ready to love you, or escape outside (he was quite the escape artist), or cuddle.
Upon Squeaky's death, Heidi went into depression. She got fat and hid in the basement for a year. Jenny's other cat, Fuzzbutt Jones, allegedly doesn't care. I told her I think her cat is an assassin. She agrees that it probably is.
So if this entry can give me anything, I will remember to squeeze my pets a little bit tighter, maul them a little bit more, kiss their precious faces as much as possible b/c you never know when their journey may be up. I don't care how much they scream at me, try to get away, and scratch: i will love them relentlessly.
I am doing better today. Lastnight's rant provided me with a lot of releif. I don't ever hold feelings of resentment or anger about my situation against anyone - ever - but lastnight I had just had enough about people's BS and the fact that i'm sitting at home picking my bum doing mundane things really got to me. I am feeling way better today, and I beleive that the odd breakdown and outburst is needed in order for one to realize and appreciate just how much they have in life. Honestly. It may appear to somet that my life is shit, and that it sucks, but to be honest, i wouldn't trade my life with anyone else in the world. Ever.
Anywho, I got my new liquid portable O2 tank today. I will post pics of the old one and new one and other ones b/c i know people are curious to know what the hell I'm talking about.
Thanks to those who sent me kind words. Muchly appreciated:)
The old portable liquid tank (pulse ox), lasted about 5.5 hours. A wine bottle is taller than it.
The new tank. It's heavy, but I have a cart for it.
The liquid oxygen tank that lives in my garage (appologies for the utter messiness). Beside it is the portable liquid tank in it's fancy cart. Charming isn't it?