My feline companion of 15 years is sick and I can’t afford to take her to the vet. Her symptoms are common – I know they would need to do expensive tests. And it’s possible, surely it’s possible, that she is only looking so shaky and frail because she ate so little for a few days. Now that I’ve gotten her different food, she is eating more.
I don’t believe in a god or gods, exactly, but I am nevertheless praying to wherever prayers may be heard that she will be more like herself soon. Pray with me.
Because I am not ready for her to leave me, especially not when the decisions I’ve made for myself leave me helpless when she needs me most. I’m willing to take my lumps, but she didn’t have any choice in the matter, so why should she suffer?
Meanwhile, I’ve had bad news about a “little” job I have, just a few hours a month. My boss has no visible skills, except for torturing underlings with more ability but less status, while showing an entirely different face to those in higher echelons. You know the kind of person I mean. As awful as he is to me, I can’t quit, I need the money too badly. I’ve been gritting my teeth and hanging in there by my fingernails because I thought he’d be moving on in a few weeks.
Turns out he won’t be.
Merry Christmas to me.
Did I mention he makes $90,000 a year?
I know the world is not a fair place – I’ve known it for a long time. But there are some days when it’s harder to make peace with that.
This is one of them.