I ain' even gonna lie.
Round 1 is done. Three more to go, but none should be as bad as this. The woman kept asking if I wanted a break. You could tell she didn't like my answer. I could see the shots - they were the viscosity of rubber cement - there were three full to the brim syringes. There was a beginning and an end. I told her it wasn't like pregnancy - a nine month unending hangover. This was childbirth and there was an end. An end I could see sitting on the table next to me. Plod on, my friend. And so she did, but I made her laugh and she pressed the plunger too hard, too fast. Such is my life, although in hindsight it was just as terrible as the rest.
So, sports fans, it's done. The rest of the rounds are just shots in the arm.
Good news, this morning we caught a cat. The wrong cat, but a cat. The animal control called my cell around 3 and said they were at the house getting the cat. They reset the trap and by 5 we caught the right cat. He's in the trap caterwaling now. I'd be pissed, too. I can't believe it was that easy to get him.
I keep playing in my mind how grateful I am that he came after me and not one of the children. We were all three of us standing there together. He had his pickings. He picked me. Thank God.
The morning comes early, and all will be and is well.
May 20, 2013 - Granny Junior
2 days ago