My first week as 30…

Everyday Adventures

kinda sucked.

Maybe that’s too strong a word, but, well, not really.

Then again, I suppose it started before my actual birthday when my hearbeat went a tad kerfluey, but with everything going on (and since it didn’t actual hurt or cause problems per se) I ignored it and didn’t say anything until after my birthday. It’s always a little disconcerting, though, when you call for a doctor’s appt and things happen in quick succession:

  • called Monday at 8:45 for an appt, granted one for 11:30
  • 11:30 appt, virtually no waiting, but also didn’t catch anything on the ecg in office, they said I needed a Holter monitor but that required a hospital visit. Before I left the office I had not only the Rx for the monitor, the appt time (Tuesday at 1pm) but the REFERRAL number as well (do you *know* how long that usually takes?)
  • 12:30 on Tuesday I show up at the hospital for my ‘fitting’ and surprise, it’s not two electrodes like the little picture shows… it’s 7!

Now, here’s where things slowed down a bit. I did the monitor thing and kept the diary like I was supposed to, turned it in on Wednesday just after it beeped the 24-hour point, and then nothing. Not nothing = no more palpitations but nothing = no response to my calls asking about the results. I know interpretation takes time, but come on people, it’s my heart here! Still, it doesn’t hurt, it just feels weird and makes me tired, but I really expected some sort of response by the end of the week!

So, okay, there’s been that. And I should preface the rest of the event/birthday weekend by saying that the event and Andrew’s graduation were perfectly fun and just as they should be. My birthday party, though? That was a little weird.

See, I know I’m a control freak, and I knew it was a busy weekend and that everyone who made it to the party would be on the tired and worn-out side, and I also know that grown-up birthday parties aren’t like kids parties, and, finally, no, I can’t say what I actually *did* expect, but it wasn’t what happened. I think I expected more attention maybe? something along those lines? Instead I was markedly inconsequential. It didn’t seem to matter if I was in the room or not, if I was even there. I know it’s vague, but the most concrete thing I can point to is that no one even tried to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me when I brought the desserts out. What’s up with that?

Now, please don’t think I’m whining… Honestly I’m not, I’m not even venting at this point, I’m more just recaping what this week has been like and how it left me feeling. The party? I’m thankful for everyone who came, I’m glad that all of the food was such a hit and that people were able to relax and unwind a bit, and had it not been my birthday party, it would have been a perfect little get-together among friends.

Now, the other thing this week has been the Abigail issue. For more than 6 weeks I’ve been trying to find a new home for Abigail. Basically I’m not home a lot and when I am I’m working on projects, not playing with her. Being out of town is something I like doing but it’s difficult to impose upon people to watch her while I’m gone (and boarding was never really an option due to her temperament). Plus, my health issues (all these little annoying things that flare up periodically) make it difficult for me to deal with a hyper little dog. So, I wanted to find her a new home where a dog could be a dog.

I knew the pound was out so I tried to go through the Humane Society and/or some local rescue groups. Problem here is that owner surrenders are not their prime directive, and as such, my phone calls and emails were not returned. Now, just to be clear, I don’t bear them any ill will, and have linked to them only so those looking to adopt animals or support rescue groups will know who to help. But still, this had been so very disheartening. So the week before last I gave up and placed a listing for her on freecycle. Withing 15 minutes I had a number of inquiries and I actually began to think I’d really find her a good home.

Of course, one big reason I wanted to go through the above avenues was that I trusted their screening process as fas as placing the animal in the best situation and not settling. This was/is important to me. Now that I was doing it myself, my stress levels went up and I was really concerned about these strangers who might want Abigail. One applicant stood out from the others, but after having that fateful weekend to think it over, she backed out.

Another week of searching and screening yeilded two meet-ups for this weekend. The first required a long drive for a short meeting. The person was truly delighted with Abigail, but her rattie-mix Prissy was not. My theory that fellow small dogs were not a good match for Abigail was proved correct. Sigh. Which made me rather apprehensive for today’s meeting with a gentleman and his beagle. Color me surprised when Abbie didn’t go on the defensive with Zeus. She didn’t growl, she didn’t cower, and after a little bit she ever had a yen to play with him. So much so that she went to a new home today which has made me a little sad.

Mom, of course, was relieved to at least hear that. Yes, folks, I do have a heart, I do have feelings, and even though that little dog annoyed me to no end some days I will miss her. I cried all the way home but got a grip after that, called Mom to tell her the news, and tried to go on with the day. Since she’s spend time at V’s not too long ago, having the apartment to myself is not quite so alien, but I imagine as the days go on it’ll hit me more an more (provided her new owner doesn’t call me and say ‘I was wrong, come get her’).

So, that’s been my week. Thrown in with that was the serious depletion of my bank account, almost being late with the rent (I remembered in time though), a sudden sinus infection, and having to train a coworker on our own special version of data entry while the boss was away just had made this not the most fun time.

Still, I din’t think I’d want to do it again and try for better. Best just to move on and hope for the best (which preparing for the worst; speaking of which, I need to get a baseball bat, an airhorn, and a can of mace for by the bedside now that my built-in alarm is gone).

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