Very cranky and sorry for myself

Monday life resumes its normal schedule. I go to work for 8 hours, then to school for two classes, every day.

I am SO not ready for this.

I have yet to get through an afternoon without a breakdown. Tomorrow is going to be fun but not restful (roleplaying the Big Finale all afternoon).

But I can't keep wussing out. So I will gather myself together on Monday and cope.

I don't wanna.

(no subject)

Scrappy, Ferrett's..uh..ferret, is dying. He appears to have suffered a stroke that has partially paralyzed his left side. His attempts to walk around end in stumbling falls that leave him tangled in awkward positions, unable to right himself. He looks perplexed and distressed and…resigned. Trying again is inevitable—he's a ferret, after all—but each time there is a period when he just lies there, regathering himself.

I have never really been fond of this creature. He is smelly and he bites. Even the better-socialized ferrets I have met are not particularly appealing to me. He was a pet who "came with the package" when we got married, and my tolerance has not always been entirely gracious.

But my heart goes out to the little guy, and to the big guy who is holding him now, comforting him while his own heart breaks. It doesn't help that Scrappy has outlived expectations by at least two-and-a-half years. Ferrett knows that tomorrow he will have to call the vet and do the right thing for a beloved friend who can no longer cope with this world.

His little light will go out. And despite it being the way the world works, the circle of life and all that, I find myself shedding a tear for him, as well as for Ferrett, who will miss his companionship. I'm sorry for your loss, dear.