Hmm... I've been neglectful.
One of my fur-babies had surgery to remove an open wound on her back, either from a disagreement with Sir (tomcat), or a spider bite... the lab results seem to indicate an allergic reaction to a bite... but I know they got into it also.
I lie awake-ish in bed in the early morning, wondering whether my roommate is home, is still out; or lost somewhere. It's not my job to care, but when you do... you worry. The other one is still stressing about the stock market (if there's a good decision to be made buy/sell; he's usually going to do the opposite).
And I cannot find full-time work; period. I just got off the phone with yet another agency flack, who's trying to get me an interview for a gig nearby; and I can only say that I am more obsolete than I know...
If my roommates were *perfect*, then they would not need to live here with me; and if I were better situated, then I would not need the additional money that they contribute... but that is how it is.
Inch by painful inch, I crawl past my bills. I remember when I had a decent credit rating. Back then...
But the sky outside is beautiful here in Lost Angeles, and it's another opportunity to succeed.
Perhaps.
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