So, I am coloring my hair. Mundane, right? Exactly!

I just want to do something normal. I watched television today, that's kind of a normal thing. Not for me, but for most people. I'm trying to latch onto the boring things so I can think of those things when all hell breaks loose. A diversion tactic (to be called upon in the future) if you will. Of course me coloring my hair can be compared to giving Tesla unharnessed electricity. I mix it myself and play with the color all the time. It could be turning green at this moment for all I know. Meh. Still, it would certainly fulfill the diversion tactic status.

As usual, let me just blurt this shit out and get it off my chest. Or at least some of it. This whole drug thing was awful. I was able to sweat (something everyone aspires to share in a blog post, no?) minimally and this would indicate that the damage is reversing although it will take a while. Know how they tell you NOT to leave your dog in the car when it's hot because they can't really sweat to cool themselves? Truly, don't do it. If you do, you don't deserve a pet and also - that is what was happening to me. (Plus all the other effects, but this could have been life threatening.) Well, except I'm not a dog. So point is.... it is getting better and that is wonderful. Never thought feeling like my normal crappy self would be a thing I'd be grateful for but I was so wrong!

Minor irritation - $1000 in car repairs. Approximately the first $400 was to make it go and the second ~$600 was to make it stop. I find that very ironic and really quite funny. It's a machine, things wear out. I don't want another car so I fixed it, done deal. Still, the timing was just bad.

On a very sad note, my cat Benny is very sick. The kind that can't be fixed. He has a fast growing sarcoma that has attached itself to the lining of his rib cage and is therefore overtaking his chest cavity and upper abdomen. It grew inside his ribcage where it was not noticeable until the day it bulged out of the bottom. Kind of feels like a brain looks, but very hard. It is basically strangling him internally. His lungs are already filling with fluid. He is 8.5 years old. He is the cat that was leukemia positive and beat it, but this is not at all related. Beating feline leukemia was honestly miraculous and seen so infrequently that the three vets he sees at this clinic had only heard of it happening, but never saw it. He has had seven years that we never thought he would. Still, I find myself sick with the thought of knowing that I will be digging a hole in the wretched snow and frozen ground ~ which is what I did around this time last year for Isabella. He's holding his own but it's day to day. The moment he exhibits respiratory distress, the only thing I can do it let him go. He has suffered more than his share. Knowing all of this, it weighs heavily on me. I am at peace with it, but I just can't understand how so much can happen to one animal. I'm sure I'll write a post when the day comes and the aforementioned comment will become clear. Doc said max 6 weeks (a week ago) but I think we're dealing with less time.

So maybe then I'll think about watching television. Or coloring my hair.