jabber_moose: (Default)
Each day I arise to descend to the Pit
To sweep the floors and clean up shit.
The people i work with? Souls they lack
But i know one day i'll leave, and never be back.
So for now I pretend the skills in which i qualify
to be an assistant are merely a lie
I shall scrub and clean and shoulder each complaint
and pride myself on self control and restraint
But i shoulder on, and come home to wagging tail
knowing for him, i must prevail.
But do keep in mind i have dirt on you all
Possibly enough for everyone's downfall.
If i see another animal disrespected again, i swear it is true
I will go to the board and report each of you.
As for now i slip on my scrubs, sneakers and say,
It's only for now, and i do it for pay.
jabber_moose: (Default)
Of the female dog variety, but the title amused me.

This morning, i got a call at about 8am from my co-worker. I hadn't worked yesterday because we only had 2 boarders and the weather wasn't the greatest. Since i was sick on Monday as well, i offered to work Saturday to compensate. That's why i thought i was being called.

Instead, it was my co worker (Who doesn't usually get in until 9). She informed me that Churchill, one of the two boarders,had passed away last night. I had only worked at this place for 4 1/2 months, but it was Churchill and his brother Gershwin that i took care of most regularly. While both older, Churchill was riddled with a heart condition and other complications. Everytime he boarded, our goal was "just keep him alive." it sounds like a heartless thing to say, but it was true.

Just keep Churchill alive until he got home. He came in with Gershwin to board for 3 weeks on Thursday, and died in his sleep Friday night.

(Or, i hope it was in his sleep, because nobody is there overnight. Churchill, i hope you didn't suffer.)

Anyway, I've been doing alot of...erm...bitching about my job, and this made me realize why i'm in the field in the first place. I love animals, for starters. i want to work with animals. I've just been so caught up in my stress, that i forgot the big picture.

Feeling a little sad by Churchill's passing, and worried about Gershwin. They were littermates, inseparable, and knowing animals, i wouldn't be surprised to come in to find a very depressed Gershwin on Monday. I  also wouldnt be surprised if Gershwin followed his brother to the Rainbow Bridge very soon.

But i came online. i wasn't crying, or anything like that. Dillon followed me in, clamored gracelessly up his doggy steps,and curled up with his head on my stomach. He hasn't left that position for an hour.

So dogs? Dogs are amazing. Dillon doesn't give a shit if he has 2 years to live, or a day. He doesn't care that he's losing his hair to Cushings, while a man would be racing for Rogaine. He doesn't care that he can't get onto the couch or into the car without assistance, as long as he gets fed and gets to be with his family.

And i realize i've been selfish, and i'm encouraged to make things better. Just because Dillon can't walk or run like he used to doesn't mean i skimp on quality walks. He proved the other day he still plays with toys and Charlie. I haven't been  focusing on what i CAN give him, besides medication and blood tests, because i focused on the money aspect. I haven't focused on what i CAN do for him on a personal level, instead of whining about how much time i might or might not have with him.

'Cause someday, loathe to admit it, Charlie is going to be in Gershwin's position: waking up to his best friend/brother being gone. And they aren't children. You can't explain it to them.

So, thank you, Dillon and Churchill, for the eye opener i needed
Starting to cramp a little in this position, though
jabber_moose: (Default)
 Sometimes i wonder if, after a nearly a decade, I'm still fighting myself.

How after nearly 10 years of popping medication every morning, and every night, there are times when looking at them makes me ill, and i want to throw them down the sink, or flush them.

But i don't.

And there are days, gods help me, where i wish i were...worse off. Is that insane or what?

I'm a 22 year old with full mental capacities, but there's that goddamn wall. A thin little wall that separates me from breaking out into the world. It's there...i can touch it. Independence, pride, confidence.

But i'm stuck. And i've been stuck. And i was unstuck for almost a year when i had my job.

Then i got stuck again.

And i'm rambling. I'm good, though. Not depressed or anything like that.


I may revisit this in a bit. Had another all nighter with the pups.

Going back to a previous post, Dillon's still..slowing down. I thought he'd hurt his leg about a week or two ago. Maybe he did. But he walks slowly. In a sense, it's amusing, because he can't sneak up the stairs without being caught.

But he doesn't like standing, much. He's sleeping more. Lost about 4 pounds, but that could contribute to the week he and Charlie were sick.

Haven't heard back from the Phx Zoo regarding the volunteering, which is weird. I want to see if they still need people for Rock the Zoo tonight.

Job hunt is still on. Cause lets face it, i'm not getting by on the examiner articles.

Right-o, then.

Onward, troops
jabber_moose: (Default)


Dear Boss Lady.

I've been working for almost a year already, and i don't think you'll ever know what an accomplishment that has been for me. In fact, knowing you don't know what i've overcome, and doing it without your support makes me damn proud.

I always liked that you always seemed appreciative of when i came in on one of my days off, or spur of the moment.

However, I don't appreciate your tendency to take your frustrations out on me when you're stressed, or had a bad day. You're the manager...learn to deal with it.

You don't owe me anything,I'm an employee. I just walk the dogs, do the laundry, and clean. But i'll recap.

In October, i sprained my ankle really, really bad. That was on a Tuesday. You let me take off Wednesday. Now, Tuesdays and Thursdays are my dogs off, correct? And that week was the week of the hospital evaluation. I came in on Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. For hours at a time. No, i'm not blaming you for the fact that because of this, my ankle will never have properly healed.

But i pushed myself to help out. A thank you would have been nice. And yes, that same month i took off for a few days to go to NY. And i got to see my grandmother, unaware that it would be the last time.

The following month, i took off again, because my grandmother had passed. And i didn't even stay with my family. I came back to work the day i landed back in AZ.

By the way, don't think i didn't read the poster that entitles an employee to BEREAVEMENT leave. That would have been good to know.

Since then, i have worked my ass off...through sickness, and pain. Came in on days off when the other kennel worker had a tummy ache. Worked whole days alone when i'd been throwing up.

I've taken the brunt of your stressed out days. Been accused of things i didn't do.

I was recently informed that my emails to you had gone to the spam box. Fine.

I gave you 2 months advanced notice that i was going to NY for family, and i needed to board my dogs. And now i know that weekend is spring break, but i didn't know that earlier. And you make it like it's my fault...and we're booked

Way to take my head off, by the way, on that.

Called this morning. I understand you were manning the front office on your own, and i had no problem with you calling me back to discuss squeezing in Dillon and Charlie. Which you didn't.  I did get an email with you biting my head off about you "Having it covered." i know you had it covered! I need to know about the boys, okay? That's all.
 

I'm tired of cleaning up shit, to be honest. Tired of riding my bike to walk, and clean, and feed, and clean, and ride back.

I'm tired of being treated like i'm always doing something wrong.

I tried, okay?

No thanks, and many migraines later,
Lauren
 


jabber_moose: (Default)
Just found out that all my emails to my boss regarding taking off the weekend in March had been going to her spam folder, hence the reason she hadn't responded. So that...and some somewhat personal relevations that have had me wringing my hands an all....

Okay, so she tells me she'll get coverage. good. It's spring break weekend, and it would seem we're booked.

Cue more hand wringing. What if there's no room for Dillon and Charlie? Oh, hell.


On another note, Simba- the cat surrendered to the clinic because his owner didn't want to deal with treating his stones, is having his first trial at a possible 'forever home' this weekend. Fingers crossed!

Also, [livejournal.com profile] flyingcircuits  and [livejournal.com profile] soullessginger  have inspired me to start writing again. Not..fiction/fanfic stuff, either. Damn both of you.

On the subject of damning, DAMN my friend Brian for getting a normal work schedule and eliminating my tues/thurs happy hour and movie time.

And where's my WD40 for these damn keyboard keys?

DAMNIT JOHN
jabber_moose: (Default)

Picked up a bit of reading material at the library yesterday.

The Michael Palin Diaries

Anansi Boys (Which i'm starting to get the feeling i read, or started to read, and never finished)

The Little Nugget

The Ode Less Traveled (Again. I was in the mood.)

Moriarty.

Started on Moriarty, since Dad expressed an interest in reading it.


I didn't have to work yesterday morning, just went in the afternoon to clean...took a break before i had to feed the cats, grabbed some Wendys, then walked to the library. That probably wasn't my finest hour, once it caught up to me.
 

I had gone bowling with mom Saturday night, to take advantage of the fact that i didn't have work, and forgot about my ankle. So i messed that up a bit, and it got all..swollen again. Back to the brace for me.

Besides that, at one point i noticed that my ball, my beloved custom bowling ball with my initials, had fallen victim to the changes in Arizona weather.

It was split...but it wasn't like it was a crack that went the whole way around. I felt like i had lost my child or something.

Anyway. Happy First Day of February.

Recently, a wise person said thus:

I hate to break it to you

We are old

Speak for yourself, madam. I've not reached my two decades and two years, yet. Give me another....24 days to enjoy my youth.

Oh, shite.


jabber_moose: (Default)

This is me at the moment.

My boss just called to tell me there was no point in me working tonight, as there are only 2 cats, or tomorrow morning. I'll just go in later to do some cleaning, then take care of the cats at night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also

I had an odd dream last night. It was like...the Ganymede Meeting In My Head.


Reginald Jeeves                      Niles (The Nanny)                       Underling (Drowsy Chaperone)
These three were just sitting and talking...but it was the best. dream. ever. Oh my god. Just...talking. Damn you, British Gentleman's Personal Gentleman/Butlers. Damn you. I want...fic. Somehow. Don't care how. Gah. I don't think i've ever woken up feeling so....freakin...happy?

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