I've been working.
You know how I told you money is tight? Like, hello boa constrictor tight? Like, night before payday I can't have dinner tight?
One of the millennials at work told me you can take surveys online for cash, so I've been doing that like a banshee. You know how banshees take the surveys. So now I think like this: Oooo, her outfit. Do I strongly agree, agree, neither agree nor disagree, disagree, or strongly disagree that it is wack?
I totally just said wack.
I also ask myself if, in the last six months I or ANYONE IN MY HOUSEHOLD have done anything.
So that's been sort of fun, and if you're my demographic, you can comfort yourself with the fact that I'm out there forming our world with my opinions.
I'm also getting this thing hooked up to my internet box, which sounds dirtier than it is. It's like Nielsen ratings for the internet. Sixty bucks a month. PREPARE TO ENJOY ALL MY PORN, NIELSEN!
Also, I've gotten two freelance jobs, which I have been doing in droves, as you know how those droves freelance. One is a copy editing job and one is writing.
Oh, and I pitched an idea to MY EDITOR at Purple Clover and he said yes, so I'll be writing that, too.
I realize that if you can't drive with a broken back, at least you can polish the fenders. I mean, I can't live like this forever, as I am old and infirm, but I just need to do it till I get caught back up.
At the beginning of 2016, my car was paid off and my credit cards were all at zero. But Tallulah kept needing medical help and eventually I had to start putting that shit on a card, then the next card, and now I have $8,000 of credit card debt AND I had to buy a car so now I have no cash.
Hey, June, they invented this thing called "savings." Where you use it when your dog gets bladder cancer. Check it out!
So that's my goal. Work like this till I make $8,000, and at least then the car payments won't kill me so much every month. Or maybe I'll become a workaholic like Katie in The Way We Were.
Oh! Oh, oh! And as part of my regularly scheduled job, I had to interview a few animal behavior consultants, which was riveting. With one of them, we were kind of wrapping up, and I said, "I can't imagine how much people must ask you for free advice. I mean, parties must be hell for you."
"You have no idea," she said.
There was a pause.
"Oh, go ahead," she said.
Here's what she told me. Lottie was 5 months old when Edsel ate her. At 5 months, puppies' hormones change enough that dogs see them as dogs then. Before that, dog see puppies as puppies and kind of let them get away with shit. At 5 months, Edsel finally said, "Hey! You be a dog! Edzul hayte yuu now." And that's why that happened when it happened.
Is his face getting white? Goddammit.
In the meantime, everyone over here is pretty much acting like everyone here always does.
Oh, and yes, I did see Ned once, briefly this week and we did not hanky-pank so get over it. The good news is, NedKitty has rallied a bit. She's eating, and she even came downstairs. She hadn't been downstairs in months. So that's good. Ned has given her that damn IV and has shoved that syringe into her cat mouth and those things seem to work.
We are not dating. The cats are back together with him, though.
Okay, I gotta go. I'm late. FOR MY PERIOD. By about 14 months.