Lair of the Naughty Sorceress (original) (raw)
Damn, it has been far, far too long since I've last posted. A lot has happened since my last entry, but I'm going to stick to the more recent stuff. By the way, I did get my mattress situation sorted out and now have a super comfy mattress and a delightfully squishy cooling pillow to go with it, so yay! Anyway.
Yesterday was Sharif's birthday. He would've been 27. I had planned to go leave flowers on his grave, but I have shingles again, so I couldn't. Maybe I'll get to go next week, if it's cleared up and I can get a ride out there. I just miss my beautiful boy so much.
Mom got in a car crash a few weeks ago, and while she's thankfully fine, the car is totaled. It's a good thing we finally got dad's car working again, because we've had to shelve our plans to buy another one because he got laid off from his electrical job a few weeks ago. He's had a few good interviews, though, and one place will definitely hire him if he chooses. It won't pay as much as the last job but it'll still be a pretty decent wage. The place he interviewed at this morning pays much more, but they're worried about his age and the time he spent teaching instead of being an electrician and want to thoroughly check out his references. I think he's got a pretty good shot, though! Whichever job he gets, he'll still make way, way more than he was making as an adjunct professor, which he might still be doing if UWF hadn't decided they'd rather have a football team than keep any of their adjuncts, because apparently sports are more important than teachers. But I digress. Now that dad is gonna be working again, he's going to be using the car most of the time, and so mom and I will be back to begging rides off of family and friends whenever we need to leave the house until we can afford another one. Well, we got through it before and we will again. C'est la vie.
Also, my cat Baron Reginald von Fluffytrousers the Third (you have to say "Third" in a really snooty voice)-Baron or His Lordship for short-disappeared last month. We'd been trying for years to make him an indoor-only cat, but no amount of treats, toys, catnip, cardboard boxes, hidey-holes, playtime, daily brushing and cuddles would convince him not to make a dash for the door every time we'd leave the house or even just let the dogs out or in. On the rare occasions when we'd manage to stop him in time and keep him inside all day, he'd protest-poop in either the tub or sink, sometimes while making direct eye-contact, the little bastard. I don't even know why he wanted to be outside in the first place, as he would usually scratch to come back in within 20 minutes or so. He probably just liked bossing us around. He was definitely a smart kitty, both streetwise and wood-wise, but he was getting on in years and the woods around our house are full of snakes, raccoons, hawks, foxes, coyotes and asshole teenage rednecks. I knew it was most likely just a matter of time before his luck ran out, before he didn't come home, but I still wasn't emotionally prepared for it to actually happen. Then again, can anyone really be fully prepared for a loss like that? I don't know. I just know that I miss him. I keep expecting to hear him scratching at the front door, or for him to suddenly jump up onto my laptop keyboard and demand affection, or to hop up on the breakfast table and wait for me to take my eyes off of my cereal for a split second so that he could stick his head in the bowl, or just to curl up on my chest at night, with his pigeon-purr going at full strength. He was a stinky bastard man sometimes, but he was my stinky bastard man and I miss him dearly. I hate that all I can do now is hope that whatever happened to him, it happened quickly and that he didn't suffer.
Our remaining cat, Chi, has been really depressed since Baron disappeared, but that first week was the worst. She'd just pace the house all day and night, crying so pitifully that it broke my heart a dozen times over. Losing Max last year was hard enough on her, but at least she still had Baron to keep her company. Now she's the only cat left and she's obviously lonely. We're planning to go to the shelter and adopt another cat after the holidays, but until then all three of us have been and will be lavishing her with love and attention in an effort to fill the void.
In other pet news, my 13-year-old dachshund Sokka is now almost completely blind, but luckily he's adapting quickly, and he's still just as stubborn, pushy, and needy as ever, and he is still my tiny overlord. When I spend too much time cuddling with Jig or Pippin instead of him, he still burrows his way in between me and them without even acknowledging their presence and then tries to jam his tongue up my nose. He's like a long, furry tank with cataracts and breath that smells like zombie swamp-ass in July. Which reminds me, I need to set up an appointment for him, Jig and Pippin to get their teeth cleaned next month (my vet's office offers discount dental work in January).
So yeah, that's all the big stuff that's happened recently. At least, that's all the stuff that I can remember at the moment. My memory has been pretty shaky lately due to a variety of factors, including but not limited to: anxiety, pain, fatigue and medication. Well, whatcha gonna do.
Anyway, I'd better get back to doing research for my Yuletide fic. I'm gonna have fun with this one.