Recently I discovered that I can vote legally in the recent US general election...and a lot of bloody good it did. The Wrong Elements were elected, all across the board, which will no doubt continue to take the world straight to hell in a handbasket. Perhaps I should have attempted to vote for my many dead relatives--but no. I foolishly played by the rules, and look at the trouble we're all in because of it!
I should have known better. Damn.
Things went from bad to worse on Wednesday, when I took my beloved elder guinea pig Val-Dijon to the vet for surgery to remove a giant raspberry-looking tumor from his ass. He made it through the surgery, and was even up and about for a few hours, when the Grim Reaper of Rodents made an appearance, and whisked him off to the Rainbow Bridge. Although I will miss him terribly, at least he gets to be with his dearest pig pal, Stella, who made the journey this past May. My grief is more intense than usual, because I wasn't well prepared for his dying. (He was otherwise in good health--or so I thought).
To add another insult to major injuries in my life, I think I've put my back out digging Val-Dijon's "final resting place."
Things just aren't working out for me this week...but maybe things are working out the way they're supposed to. Perhaps the answers will come later.
I gotta go now...I think I'm getting my period.
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