2001-10-31
12:42 a.m.

I know, I have been neglecting this little diary, but my life has sort of been on hold. I have been fighting this depression for all I am worth, and I'd like to think I am winning. I got scared, when a few days ago, I found myself falling into my old though habbits of "if I go to sleep, I won't have to think about it." I will -not- go back to that dark stage of my life. I didn't like it, I didn't like me. It's just money, and material posessions, they aren't what is important. I keep repeating that mantra over and over again. It still doesn't make the worry, and pain on my mom's face any less noticable. We'll get through, there isn't any other alternative. We WILL get through.

My interview is finally up. I actually had the most trouble with the last question. I was asking everyone what they thought. Megan only managed to inform me that I'm not a blast-ended skrewt, from the Harry Potter books. While this information is always good to know..it didn't really help me too much ;) My mom then says "Deffinately a unicorn...no..actually, a dragon..no..wait.." I finally gave up, leaving her on the couch debating herself. You have to love my mom.

Now, to make everyone think I am some evil crazy dog torturer..the other day, I brought home some needles to practice drawing blood with. I suck at it. It takes me forever to hit a vein, which is never good when you are in a hurry. So, my dogs get quality vet care, food, and toys, at the price of me practicing on them. I think it's a fair deal..right? I drew blood on three of them, and I got it first stick all three times. Maybe I don't suck as much as I originally thought. Karima didn't even flinch when I stuck her. Speaking of Karima, the now fourty pound dog, thinks she is a little lap puppy, which..when you are holding a burning hot drink over your lap, is not a good thing. My dogs will be the death of me.

Maggie, my little dog that got hit by the car about four months ago went in for X-rays on Monday. When she first broke her pelvis, three different vets told me she would probably never jump, or run again. Even Dr. C had these doubts. Maggie, however, wasn't informed of this. On monday, Dr. C opened up Maggies crate, not thinking she would need a leash..well, Maggie proceded to run all around the clinic, get her front two paws on the snack table, stuff her nose in the trash can, and wag her tail innocently in a two minute time table. 'Broken pelvis my ass' came Dr. C's reply to Maggie's craziness. 'That dog has two brain cells that fire on fast only.' The X-rays were surpisingly good for her type of injury. Dr. C says that we won't need to do the expensive surgery until she has arthritic changes in the leg, which she has absolutely none as of yet. Maggie, of course, had to be a drama queen, yelping, wiggling, and whining so much we had to sedate her. I LOVE my dogs on drugs. They are so sweet, and innocent..and just perfect like that..too bad I can't keep them like that forever.

With stories such as these, how could I ever get depressed :)

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