Well, the title should explain the time stamp. One of these years I'll finally figure out my sleep schedule and be a happy camper. I think I'm still hung up from this past week, which was so erratic and up and down and anxious and stressful and great, and terribly sad it just tripped everythig out.
I'm just frustrated because I have to be up in three hours to go to a job that is still brand new, and while it is great, it is so completely different from anything I've done before and I'm trying to learn a whole new vocabulary and I need to get some sleep but my brain is just whirring away.
I know I promised details on the newjob, andthey will be comming, I promise, theonceI get settled in and understand what I actually do I will fill everyone in. I can tell you that so far everyone is really nice and friendly and helpful and I have a nice, big desk with my own cubby hole and the copier is named Rupert.
So, in less happy news, our family dog had to be put down last week. It's hard for me to talk about, honestly, which is why it's taken almost a week for me to put it up here. I really have only told three or four people. We got Gypsy from the SPCA a couple months after I graduated from High School. She was really skinny and skittish and it didn't take a genius to see she had been mistreated. Whoever had her before us had just dumped her in the hills above Livermore (the bastards) and a SPCA volunteer found her, he actually though she was a fox until he saw she wasn't running away from him. Anyway, it took a while, but she got used to us and figured out we weren't going to hurt her and eventually calmed down. She would always run up when I came home and jump up on me so I could pet her head. I only ever saw her junp up on one other person, it was sort of our special thing. She knew what my car sounded like and I could see her looking through the window when I pulled up to my parents' house. Then she started moving a little slower, which seemed about right for a ten year old dog. Then she started just not looking well, but no one could quite say why. Then my dad noticed the lump on her side. Basically, it was an incredibly agressive cancer that had been growing in her insides, but not showing up anywhere anyone would notice. She probably barely noticed it herself, according to the vet. Two weeks later my dad took her to the vet who said there was nothing that could be done, The tumors were squishing all of her internal organs and she was in a lot of discomfort and things were only going to get worse. I did get a chance to go and see her before this, luckily it fell when I was in between jobs and could head out there in the middle of the day. It was so hard, but at the same time not nearly as hard as the alternative. Anyway, Gypsy is in a better place and no longer in pain, which is the important thing, but I still miss her. As sad as it is, though, I know it isn't going to be real for me until the next time I go see my family and she isn't in the window when I pull up in front of the house,
I don't mean to turn this into a big ol' downer entry, but as I said, I haven't really talked about it, partly because I've been so busy and had so much to do I really haven't had the luxury of being able to stop and process this. But now the show is open and the job has begun and I think I'm finally able to really just feel and grieve and work through it. It does feel good to just have it on paper, or, well, computer screen, just have it out there in the world. I'll be ok, but as anyone who has ever lost a good pet knows, it always comes faster than you think and hurts more than you thought it would, even if you knew it would hurt really bad. It'll be ok, it's how the world works, but it does suck right now.
Fucking insomnia, making me all emotional and shit.