Whine like a baby, now with 500% more drama!

And it sounds like your two "feuding" animals have some 'splaining to do.
(they'll probably have you change the cat's litter, I recommend Dr. Elsey's Ultra. Not sure what they'll have you do with the dog)

--Patrick
 

GasBandit

Staff member
And it sounds like your two "feuding" animals have some 'splaining to do.
(they'll probably have you change the cat's litter, I recommend Dr. Elsey's Ultra. Not sure what they'll have you do with the dog)

--Patrick
The dog has blood in her bladder that shows up on an ultrasound, so we're trying to treat that with meds and then we go back friday to see if there's anything more that needs to be dealt with.

The cat has an obstructed urethra, and is getting cat-thetered (ba dum tish) and is being kept in the hospital for 48 hours, and they're going to do the whole x-rays and whatnot thing to see if it's stones or infection or what..

Between them, I've dropped about $4700 in vet bills this weekend. Oooooof.

And my fiber is still down.

1719680846791.png
 
I just got the worst haircut of my life I think. I'm so fucking angry about it. There's no fixing it.

She decided to cut it as short on top as the top of the sides and then cut it so it would slick backwards instead of side parting. I look like a balding pedophile with a literal dickhead the way she cut my hair. I'm absolutely in awe of how shit of a haircut it is. Such a shit feeling.

How the fuck do you go from being asked for a trim to changing the hairstyle entirely? Fuck sakes.
 
Fuck, I can't even side part it anymore. It just won't.

Yeah, time to bic to the fucking skull I guess.

Waste of 40 bucks.
 
I'm going to add more to this shit because fuck this day. Went for breakfast with my mom and my aunt apparently had to join (I can't fucking stand her and she's always treated my brothers and I as inconveniences to her more important use of my mom's time, like being her live-in servant). While there my mom is asking how the new meds are treating me and I get a fucking lecture from my aunt about how dangerous they are and shit and it's all fucking Dr. Facebook psuedoscience of course like everything old people obsess over.

Then I'm trying to show my mom an update on my buddy in the hospital and scroll past a funny video my s/o sent me at a conference they were at last week where the speaker had incredible awful crackly drymouth, my worst kryptonite. I laugh about that and my mom points out how badly my brother and I react to sounds like that.

Then she starts doing an impression of it. If you've ever seen the movie Darkman...there's a scene where Liam Neeson is at a carnival and one of the carnies is a bit of dick and Sam Raimi uses some really fun greenscreen of the whole world melting down in fire and shattering like glass around him. That's how I feel when someone has dry mouth. I ask her to stop, pretty politely. She says, "What, you don't like this sound" and continues making the sound. I raise my voice in the little restaraunt full of people "PLEASE FU....STOP." and suddenly, I'm being a prick.

If your first instinct when finding out something is the rawest of raw nerves is to immediately do that thing, you should take a look in the mirror and think about what a piece of shit you are for a little while.

Because that shit ruined my day. I would have brushed off the haircut thing pretty easily if I wasn't so rattled from the breakfast thing I was having trouble not just literally just flinging chairs across the room and bellowing in ineffectual rage.

I got home and was like, well guess I won't be playing Elden Ring. I can't afford a new controller or monitor today.

edit--
Fuck, my therapist is right. Writing shit down does make me feel better. Like an instant load off.
 
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I'm going to add more to this shit because fuck this day. Went for breakfast with my mom and my aunt apparently had to join (I can't fucking stand her and she's always treated my brothers and I as inconveniences to her more important use of my mom's time, like being her live-in servant). While there my mom is asking how the new meds are treating me and I get a fucking lecture from my aunt about how dangerous they are and shit and it's all fucking Dr. Facebook psuedoscience of course like everything old people obsess over.

Then I'm trying to show my mom an update on my buddy in the hospital and scroll past a funny video my s/o sent me at a conference they were at last week where the speaker had incredible awful crackly drymouth, my worst kryptonite. I laugh about that and my mom points out how badly my brother and I react to sounds like that.

Then she starts doing an impression of it. If you've ever seen the movie Darkman...there's a scene where Liam Neeson is at a carnival and one of the carnies is a bit of dick and Sam Raimi uses some really fun greenscreen of the whole world melting down in fire and shattering like glass around him. That's how I feel when someone has dry mouth. I ask her to stop, pretty politely. She says, "What, you don't like this sound" and continues making the sound. I raise my voice in the little restaraunt full of people "PLEASE FU....STOP." and suddenly, I'm being a prick.

If your first instinct when finding out something is the rawest of raw nerves is to immediately do that thing, you should take a look in the mirror and think about what a piece of shit you are for a little while.

Because that shit ruined my day. I would have brushed off the haircut thing pretty easily if I wasn't so rattled from the breakfast thing I was having trouble not just literally just flinging chairs across the room and bellowing in ineffectual rage.

I got home and was like, well guess I won't be playing Elden Ring. I can't afford a new controller or monitor today.

edit--
Fuck, my therapist is right. Writing shit down does make me feel better. Like an instant load off.
Even though I probably shouldn't, I've basically treated Halforums as my space for my personal diary at times. Maybe I shouldn't, but it's been cathartic for me for years since no one really knows me here in person.

To clear my head of frustrations lately, instead of playing video games (which I'm fast learning ISN'T as cathartic as I always thought it was, but the opposite), I've been doing exercise. DDP Yoga has been a great output for my frustrations lately. Ditto for just going for a walk. After I come home from work and have supper, I've been going for a 40-50 minute walk. Nothing intense, and I'm more focused on listening to an audiobook or podcast. I'm not saying it would work for you, but some form of exercise might clear your head.
 
Yeah, exercise has been a big part of feeling better. I don't think anyone begrudges you posting stuff like that either. It's what these threads are for innit?

Being incredibly on edge with how things in the world are progressing isn't helping either. That's my own fault for not disconnecting from shit I have no control over. I can't control geopolitics of what's happening globally and getting physically ill over it isn't constructive to anyone.
 
Fuck, my therapist is right. Writing shit down does make me feel better. Like an instant load off.
Writing also allows your brain to say, "There, I have committed it to memory and no longer need to bounce it around the inside of my head like a Superball." At least, that's how it feels to me.

--Patrick
 
"I went to where the map said it should be, boss, and rode around a couple of hours but I just couldn't find it before I had to go back and return my boat rental."

--Patrick
 
I ruined my experience in Dave the Diver because I stopped playing on D-Day of an important event and I can't remember what I was supposed to do for it and I refuse to start playing over again because it was such a slog to get here
I found the game as a whole a little too tedious to enjoy.
 
It kind of sucks having Dennis be the relatable character in any Sunny scene, but here we are. Anyone over 30 at this point has to feel like Dennis all the time.
 
It kind of sucks having Dennis be the relatable character in any Sunny scene, but here we are. Anyone over 30 at this point has to feel like Dennis all the time.
I do like that they acknowledge it's not the cashier's fault at least but yeah.
 
That's what I mean, completely relatable. Being so inwardly outraged but knowing the 12 year old standing in front of you can't do a God damn thing about it and it isn't their fault.
 

GasBandit

Staff member
Our dog is running up another $3000 of emergency vet bills. And that's just to find out if she needs another $5400+ surgery to save her life.

I feel like I'm the one bleeding out here.
It had looked like she was recovering well this morning, and then this evening she collapsed and needed a transfusion. The vet is talking exploratory surgery in the morning to find the bleed. Before it was internal bleeding but now she's not accumulating fluid in her abdomen any more.

I am fearing the worst.
 
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