Sob stories.

In the continuing saga of my miserable existence, this day has been particularly harried. Sometimes I think of bad days as if they were chapter titles to the novel of my life. Today's chapter is called, "The Day I asked for a kitty and ended up with Lexapro."

I also had my other meds doubled. So, even though I technically was given 2 things when I asked for just one, I am pissed. Pills do not purr when you scratch them behind their ears. Pills do not even have ears.

To be fair, the discussion about kitty is merely tabled, not abandoned. But I am not sure how much more of this bullshit I can take. The week I spent in anticipation of today's appointment was not particularly fun. Now I have to steel myself against one more week of feeling drained and exhausted.

The day started out shitty, too. Prior to my 9:45 appointment, I stepped in dog shit on my way to the car. I didn't have a chance to eat breakfast and I got stuck on the Broadway bridge just as it was being drawn. Then I get the the appointment only to find out that my doctor has not read the email I SPENT 3 DAYS WRITING which outlined a very clear thesis on why he should help me get a cat.

To recuperate, I thought I'd check out the Humane Society over in the black hole people often refer to as Vancouver, Washington. I generally find the burbs to be depressing, but their animal shelter was particularly sad. It wasn't just gloomy in comparison to the ray of sunshine that is the Oregon Humane Society. It was basically dreadful in every way.

The saddest part was the phone conversation I overheard on my way out the door. A staff member was on the phone with a woman whose kitty went missing while she was away on a business trip. From my end of the conversation I learned that her cat had in fact been at the shelter but it had been euthanized because it had gone unclaimed for 3 days. The shelter pays for mass cremations of their deceased animals and this woman could pay the shelter $90 for some remains which may or may not contain carbon matter from her kitty.

I think a lot of tears are shed in the parking lot of Humane Societies. Hearing that story after the events of the morning made me shed a few more. The most redeeming part of the visit was the fact that there were 10 cats being shipped over to the Oregon Humane Society where they'd have a better chance at being adopted.

Anyway, I think I'm going to bed for the night.