*OR “This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no foolin’ around…” (Talking Heads-Fear of Music-Life during Wartime)

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So I’ve been a bit stressed lately and not properly getting rid of it. Won’t go into the details but it’s got partially to do w/the whole prove myself like a (professional) puppy at new job, stretching myself professionally (learning new things), being billed out by the hour and feeling like I have to MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT, we’re just before a go-live to Production, and there are still 3 or 4 new things creeping steadily towards me and no relief in sight except a day off Fri., which you might be able to tell I need.

I’ve been doing acupuncture (well, I haven’t been doing it but you know what I mean) and was religiously going to the gym, doing my physical therapy, stretching, a pose or 2, and light weights on a medicine ball. <No comments on how you never noticed> But I’ve not done any work at the gym the last couple of weeks, have been steadily decreasing the PT, and my once-resurrected meditation practice seems to have died again.

Plus the joys of perimenopause – a period every 3 weeks with sore boobs in between? Hell yeah—what’s not to love about THAT? <These are the times I regret giving this address to people I work with.> 

Anyhoo, the job, the dog almost dying, the stolen truck & cop car outside the other night, the unexpected fireworks in the park the other night that caused my dog to run full speed into the back yard gate then inside where she shook for the next 20 min. You know, the usual life stressors. I just needed some time to chillax.

Last night I didn’t bring home work.  I blobbed and watched funny shows I’ve recorded, re-started my physical therapy, did some crunches and stretching (including pigeon pose, which I now—but didn’t before—suck at, and almost burst into tears about when I couldn’t get into it anymore). Me—the uber-flexible.

I was “closing up shop,” debating whether or not to put on the meditation cd, when the question was answered for me, and Allie carried in some little at-least-partially-dead thing (baby bird? m/vole? baby mouse? I don’t even know and it doesn’t matter).

Rather than totally lose it and rather than call my usual “AAAHHH there’s another animal inside” sister (must stop doing that) I instead called my dear friend to talk me through the nasty disposal process. If she had any doubts about my sanity she clearly has no doubts now. I was all hyped up and talked fast in a high squeaky voice and she probably caught only every other word.

Really, this “bring your outside animals inside” thing has become a routine that just involves different members of the same household. Last night, it was Allie carrying in the nearly (?) dead thing—that part remains constant—she brought it into the dining room (yep, just like the baby rabbit a year or 2 ago). This time both Li’l F***er** AND Girl the Beagle were eagerly following her and her prey.

As I’m losing it on the phone w/my friend encouraging me and walking me through (yet another) disposal operation, what do I see but Allie (aka ‘ co-dependent kitty’) hissing at Bubba to get away from her prey (and he did). Girl saw that and of course, backed off immediately. She’s a lot of things, but she mostly is scared of the cats.

I ran to the porch and got the specially-designated animal-removal dustpan (how sad that I have one, and that it has its own storage place so I always know where to get it “in a pinch”), b-ing and moaning to my friend the whole time, complaining about the inevitable.

I came inside strengthened by my kind friend who’s keeping me encouraged and distracted enough to not pay too much attention to the grossness I’m about to deal with, and damned if the little m/vole creature isn’t gone, all except for a little piece of something-that-I-don’t-care-to-look-at-closer-thank-you-very-much.

I guess since Girl took Allie’s recent catch, <Yes, lightning can strike twice…or more.>, Allie decided she wasn’t taking any more chances so she wolfed that sucker down but quick.

I mean LITERALLY, in the time it took to speed dial, yine into the phone while retrieving the dustpan, it was gone. But hey—less for me to do, right?! <She breaks into song:> “Yeah, that’s all right mama, yeah that’s all right with me…”

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I decided to ignore the little piece of something-that-I-didn’t-care-to-look-at-closer-thank-you-very-much, thanked my friend again (I hope profusely enough), walked back into the dining room, and the little piece was already gone. All I have to do is sterilize the floor now.

I’m just glad I have such good family and friends to keep me off the ledge, and even though the animals cause the trouble in the first place, I’m glad they sometimes clean up their messes.

Most of all, I’m glad it’s still warm enough to lock Allie out of the house tonight in case she throws up.

**reminder: Allie (on left in photo)=co-dependent kitty/the great hunter and Bubba (on the right)=Li’l F**ker 

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