Everything since the beginning of the year has just been nuts. And if this is a harbinger of the year to come, I might need to refill my prescription of Xanax.
I’m sitting in the workout room, which is now where my computer desk resides. We bought a gun safe for the Zombie Apocalypse Gear (ZAG!), and put that in the bedroom where the desk used to be. Eventually we’ll be turning Amanda’s old room into my office/studio, but for now the desk is crammed between the elliptical machine and the weight bench. I’m actually rather enjoying having the window right there behind my monitor. It looks out over the back yard and I can watch the breeze in the trees and the birds stealing water from the dog’s water dish, and watch Gadget watch the birds and plot their demise.
Some things to explain about this picture, which was taken from the hallway just off the living room. The photo pinned up on the wall off to the right, that you can just see behind the arm of the elliptical, is indeed a picture of Kate Beckinsale. My personal motivation for losing twenty pounds. The photo pinned upon the wall off to the left, that you can see just above the lit lamp (the head is obscured), is Patrick Dempsey. Motivation of a different sort. I have another picture of him pinned on the wall in direct view of the elliptical as I paddle along, and another Kate is pinned further back on the left hand wall. Whatever works, right?
The calendar on the board is how I track which days I’ve worked out, and I cross off each day that I do. Sixteen crossed off for the month of January, and one more to be crossed off for today. Not the best track record, but pretty damned good considering the month I’ve had.
My personal laptop, from which I am writing this, is the one hooked up to the monitor on the desk. You can see my work laptop, sitting on the lap desk on top of the weight bench – as today is Monday, I’m working from home. For most of the day my feet are up on that weight bench while I sit in the desk chair with the lap desk on my lap, doing my AcronymCo work. Every now and then I switch computers as I reach the upper limits of my ability to deal with whatever nonsense is going on with work. Today has been particularly nonsensical, and marked the first time in ages that I actually felt like crying with the frustration I felt. Hence my break, and this entry.
Zoe is the furry blob underneath the window, on the floor off to the left of the desk. She likes to lay on my PC’s power supply because it’s toasty. Probably not the best thing for its performance, but eh. Oz is usually right there next to her, but he’s sleeping on the couch at the moment.
There. I thought you needed to know the conditions in which I am writing to you.
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Thanks, everyone, so very much for your condolences over Gypsy’s passing. I’m trying not to think about it too much, though Gadget’s sadness is a constant reminder of her absence. He’s taken up howling, which he’s NEVER done before. He sits on the patio and tips his little nose up in the air and goes, “LoooooOOOOOOoooo…” It’s heartbreaking. He looks for Gypsy every time he comes in and every time he goes back out. I’ve been paying extra attention to him, taking him for brief walks as his aching back allows, and letting him hang out with me during the day.
The in-home euthanasia service that the vet offered was really not a bit as horrifying as I was afraid it was going to be. Gadget stayed right next to Gypsy, laying next to her and staring at her and whining, all morning until the vet came. I put him out when the vet arrived, since he was his usual bouncy self around “company” and I really didn’t know how he’d act when the time came. Amanda came over to be with me (Bill had to be in Tucson) and we held hands and stroked Gypsy’s silky ears the whole time. Gypsy just laid on her big puffy dog bed where she’d been, still and tired, all morning long. The vet gave her a brief examination, noted the tenderness in her belly, and said there were probably tumors that we weren’t aware of. Her lack of muscle tone indicated cancer, and the vet said I was doing the compassionate thing, ending her suffering. She put a catheter in Gypsy’s hind leg, and in just seconds it was over. There was no struggle, just one little gasp, and she was gone. And now I’m bawling again. I REALLY can’t talk about this yet.
So. Thank you all for your kindness. Gypsy was a good girl. It’s hard to believe that just a week ago today she didn’t appear sick at all.
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When it rains it pours. You all know about my freelance writing, and my wish to make enough money at it someday to support our household and not have to work at AcronymCo. Within the space of a single week I got three new permanent writing jobs, on top of the three I already have. All three jobs came to me, I was actually searched out based on the previous work I’ve done, which makes me feel incredibly blessed for the network that I’ve gained since taking my very first writing assignment back in April of 2009. This is the time that most self-employed folks look back on as the “Nuts Period”. That crazy busy time when you’re working full time at your regular job, and just about full time at your personal business, trying to get the latter past the the threshold into full-fledged lifestyle supportability.
So now there’s no screwing around for me. I absolutely HAVE TO stick to my weekly writing schedule, because if I miss even one day I fall so woefully behind that the scrambling path back to The Land of Caught Up is perilous and fraught with ogres. Seriously, though, I couldn’t be more thrilled. With every bump closer to self-employment comes the happy realization that we could relocate anywhere at all and I could employ myself right out of our home. Maybe Maine isn’t such a distant dream, after all.
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So! That’s what’s been going on with me. How are YOU guys?
