What I Have Been Thinking About the Last 24 Hours.

Here is a list of shit that has crossed my mind during the last 24 hours.

• Tonight I get to work one less hour!  If you are reading this don't forget to set your clocks forward an hour.  
• When I was growing up my brother and I would attempt to play board games like Monopoly.  We never finished a single game because they always ended up with game pieces flying and the board being flipped. I always ended up crying.  Some of my best memories are of running to my room and slamming my door. 
• My dad used to let us have water fights in the house.  When my mom would get home from work she would be really impressed at how clean all the floors were.
• I used to have a dog named Alex.  He was a poodle and weighed in at about 10 pounds.  Alex regularly picked fights with dogs much larger than him.  One time he got in a fight with two German shepherds that ripped him in half.  Like one half in the front yard and the other half down the street.  The dog was fucking immortal because the vet sewed the two halves back together.  I shit you not.  Every single picture we have of him he is in some sort of cast or bandage.  We ended up "sending him to live on a farm" when he was like 30 years old and he smelled like rotting death.  He was blind and could barely walk but still liked fighting other dogs so we didn't think he needed to go before that. 
• I had another dog named Roxy that was a small mixed breed that hated to be inside.  It was like panic attack for a dog when we brought her in.  She wanted to be outside even in the the dead of winter.  Her fur grew in really, really thick and she slept in a basket in the garage. One day my dad accidentally ran over her with his truck because (obviously) she wasn't very smart and didn't know enough to move out of the way.  Her eyeball came right out of her head.  The vet (who made a lot of money off our family) sewed it back in but she was never the same.  One week when she got old my dad was going to take her to live on a farm too but instead she keeled over dead.  When my dad found her the next morning all four of her legs were sticking straight out.  I think she must have been just standing there looking around at shit with her one working eye and bam! she just tipped over dead. I kind of didn't like patting her when she was alive because she smelled like fucking death and you couldn't wash the reek off. Patting her would induce the gag reflex.  Her fur was all oily and shit too so it not only reeked but it felt gross. 
• Speaking of dogs going to live on a farm.  My cousins had a St. Bernard named Heidi that went to live on a farm. My mom told me so.  I wasn't until I was about 35 that I finally figured it out.  Then again I believed in Santa until I was 19 so that is not saying much.  
• My tongue hurts in one spot.  It is probably cancer.  Every time I have an unexplained ailment, (which is almost everyday) I think it is cancer.  Why? Because I am a hypochondriac   If you think you are a hypochondriac but don't think every sickness you have is cancer than you are not a true hypochondriac. 
• When I was growing up we had a cat that my mom got for me and my brother after she divorced my dad.  It was yet another animal in the line of pets that didn't work out as planned.  One day my brother and I were eating breakfast and we heard all this scratching at the back door. (Now keep in mind that I was a terrified child to begin with and that peed my pants almost daily. The fridge coming on scared me as well at the toaster and the doorbell.)  Anyway, we heard all this scratching and of course we looked and the cat had crawled up and was looking at us through the window saying, WTF bitches, let me in! I totally freaked the hell out which sent my brother into a fucking panic and then he started to cry. Meanwhile the cat is still staring thorough the window all confused and shit.  My mom came running in probably guessing a murder was in the house. (Which wasn't too far from how she thought every day. She was convinced that we were all going to be murdered for real at some point. I think she was a little disappointed when she ended up dying of cancer because I know it would have been the high point of her life to be on Unsolved Mysteries or America's Most Wanted as the victim of a serial killer.) ANYWAY...the cat was still hanging from the door and was watching all this shit go down until one us opened the door and let her in. I am not kidding at all when I say one of my clearest childhood memories is that scratching at the door and her face staring at us. She didn't get to go live on a farm because she got ran over by a car. 
• Right now I am wondering if I have bi-polar because last week I wanted to find a lady-like way of checking out but now I am feeling mostly happy.  I think it is because I made a clear and definite decision to not go back to the grief support group.  I generally hate people and being in a group makes me feel awkward. To be truthful being around any adult besides my husband makes me feel awkward.  Besides it is kinda fucked up to want to go to a group where people talk about the worst shit that could possibly happen to anyone.  I will miss the cookies though.  I bet most people keep going for the cookies. 
• Another dog story.  When I was a grown up I bought a poodle that I thought would be a kick-ass dog like Alex. I named her Cricket. I fucking hated her so much.  I would take her outside to go to the bathroom but she refused to go.  Back inside she would go and into her crate.  Fifteen minutes would pass and I would take her out and again, nothing.  She would just stand there watching birds or the grass grow.  Fuck if I know.  This would go on all day until I felt like shit for locking her in a crate for 18 hours a time. The second I came back in the house from 75th time outside she would run and drop a load on my bed.  Sometimes I didn't know and would lay in it.  One time she crapped in my son's dresser drawer. I finally had enough after about a year and was going to take her to the rescue agency.  My mom freaked out because you never, ever, ever give up on a pet but I couldn't handle it one more day.  My mom decided to take her. The dog shit on her bed that night and my mom laid in it.  She phoned me and freaked out trying to imply that it was my fault.  (I thought it was the funniest thing ever.) She had that damn dog for about 15 hours then gave it to one of her friends who ended up thinking she was the best dog ever. Which is a lot like ex-husbands.  I think my ex-husband is a dipshit but his new wife thinks the sun rises and sets by him. 
• Ten days until surgery. As I have mentioned it is being done intra-vaginally. (Fuck off of you think that is TMI, it is my blog douche bag.) Strangely, I am really looking forward to the surgery because I am sick of pissing myself when I fart and being either constipated or having a dump come on and having .05 seconds to get to a toilet.