The Divine Mr. M

~March and April have been tough months financially. March there was the cock-up with my SSI and then the fridge crapping out, which ran $163. I didn't mention that one of our kitties got very sick from bad teeth and we had to drop $90 on a vet visit and antibiotics. Then on the second day of this month, she had four teeth out, which ran $242.

I've been fighting off depression so I couldn't even get my shit together to seriously ask for help. We're not going to go hungry or anything, but we're barely going to get by this month.

But I was thinking yesterday as I watched the kitty in question running around the house that if we had not taken her in from outside, those bad teeth would have killed her. That brought up tears from my vast back log of said.

Since the beginning of last week I've been playing phone tag with a Social Security worker regarding a renewal interview. I'm not as depressed as I was, but I am emotionally drained...

...and there you have it.

~Our main Kitty Patron dropped a C-Note into the Isis Fund a day ago and I made a vet appointment for tomorrow at ten in the morning. I did that because we get our first cheques just after midnight tonight, so we'd have money to cover it if the above wasn't enough.

Just a little while ago we got another fifty. I'm hopeful that should cover all of it. If not, be sure I'll squawk about it.

Meantime, thanks to all y'all...and I will keep you appraised of developments.

~Roughly six weeks since Buckethead got his leg lopped off. He's gained weight and is a happy lil shit. Yesterday morning he was running around the house like a fucking maniac. Sometimes he pushes too hard and torques the thing. I tell him to be careful, that he's 'an old fuck with three legs'. I suspect he'll get the hang of it after a while.

~The Old Fool gets his stretches out tomorrow morning. He'll stay collared and caged for one more day after that and then he'll be unleashed upon the world. He's still 'unsure' on his one back leg, but he's never been a model of feline grace anyway, so I expect he'll be fine.

I, on the other hand, am something of a mess today. Yesterday I cleaned the litter boxes, did laundry and washed my hair and today I just feel wiped out. Part of that is because I did not sleep well. My mind kept grinding on, largely about all that 'I have to do'. Always a losing sleep strategy and one that I'm usually able to avoid.

But between the Full Moon and 'the pressure lifting', I’ve been restless and all that noise just pushed through. [There was a lot of 'Her Prophet stuff' in said noise] So today I'm exhausted. I'll probably go back to bed after I finish this breakfast cycle.

Ah, I almost forgot. I drove down to Mission on Friday and did a face-to-face with the refund, so that money should be back in our account soon. I also got the name and phone number of the final donor and will call them soon to give them the 411.

Meanwhile, the various lil maniacs are running around, which helps my mood...

~I finally got my shit together and called the vet. I'd given up on the whole idea of driving down to do this last weekend because I realized I'd set my bar too fucking high.

So we're taking the old Ginger fool and his nasty Fukashima plum foot down there on Friday for the x-ray. Le-Le is going too because she has decades of experience in dealing with feline health issues. I'll deal with handling the money issue because I was raised in the Entertainment Industry.

If his lungs are clear then he'll probably go under the knife that evening. How far he's going to get cut is what Le-Le is going to handle. She does not believe he needs to be cut all the way to his haunch, that to the knee will be fine. He's already been keeping that leg 'in the air' most of the time anyway.

Anyway, see shall see what we shall see....

~Okay, this is a Good News/Bad News dealio....

The Good News is that the night before last when Le-Le was doing the outdoor dinner seating, George came up to eat, got too close and she grabbed his scruff and tossed him in the door. So the lil shit is back inside. He's adjusted fairly quickly. It's been cold at night and there some fucking mean characters out there.

Part of what got him 'too close' was that I had grabbed The Missus about four days before that and had started to reduce the amount of food I was putting out. We kept her in the 'guest cage' for about five days, letting her loose once George was inside.

Mr. Stripy Pants will be last, but first we have to take care of Buckethead and his Big Stupid Foot. Le-Le has a VA appointment tomorrow down in Lancaster and we're planning to head off to the vet afterward and discuss x-rays and payment plans.

The Bad News is that I now have six fucking litter boxes to clean. I'd bought two of them along with an extra water and food dish at the beginning of October. The latter were deployed last night and the former about an hour ago when I cleaned the original four.

We're a Certified Feline Freakshow now....

~Between Buckethead's hobbling, my lower back pain and the looming Default [which would mean we don't get paid on the First] I'm worn down to a fucking nub....

~Yesterday my lower back pain was fucking brutal. I could barely stand up straight without stabbing pain. It had been bad every since the clusterfuck at the vet the Friday before, but it was really bad yesterday. It's stress of course. Plus the vet's chairs are fucking torture devices.

But also early Friday morning – around half two – I ran the rent up to the park office, took a library book to the night drop, and did our monthly gas fill-up. There were four 20lb tubs of litter in the trucklette. I put them on the back porch when I left and brought them in when I returned. I'd hoped that splitting the action would prevent back pain. Guess that failed.

Stuck the heating pad under my ass when I lay down this morning and that helped, but it's gonna be a few days to get relief. I could expedite that process with one of Le-Le's muscle relaxers, but those things knock me out for a few days and I have shopping to do. For now it's the heating pad and regular analgesics.

In Kitteh Nooz, we did the 'foot thing' with Buckethead. As expected, it lasted just about two minutes before he 'recused himself'. But we'll persevere...

~I was planning to take Icarus to the vet on Sunday and use our portion of the fund for the x-rays. But now there is a distinct possibility that we may not get any of our various monies next month because of the Shutdown, that includes VA Disability, too

Because of that I have to put everything vet related on hold, at least until we know what is going to happen. We may need that money just to survive. *sigh*

Icarus is more or less okay. His coat is good and so is his weight. He's been sleeping more, but he's uncomfortable and sleep is a good escape. He's playful when he comes in to be with me and still bug hunts. We clean his foot every two or three days. We'd do it everyday, but the cleaning makes it tender.

This whole thing is exhausting and aggravating. My neck and shoulders are like rocks and my lower back is still sore from last week's clusterfuck. I'm sleeping more, too.

Even through all this grief and aggro, I've been working on my novel, my own one, not the fan-fic. As I said, if it's gonna be 'work', might as well suffer for my own.

I suspect the GOP leadership will overrule the Teatard Shitweasels in the crunch. There is far too much money at stake and I'm certain The Rulers are putting on the pressure now that they are in danger of taking the hit, the fucking cunts.

But our margin here is way too narrow to do anything but hunker down and see what comes to pass. Needless to say, I am utterly fucking enraged and have been abusing Shitweasels all over the intratubes. If I could, I'd happily gut most of them with a carpet knife and let them bleed out...

~The thing was total clusterfuck. Everything I was told about money and payments and so on was completely wrong. I spent over two fuck hours there and got fucking zero done.

I was told that they can't use the money in the Leg Fund for the x-rays because those are 'extra' and so 'not part of the package'. And that the balance would have to be paid upon completion of the surgery, if that takes place.

I'm exhausted and angry and...oh, fuck it!

I'm having something to eat and going back to bed. I cannot think straight...