sigh...

Folks, this is going to be an odd post. I've divided it into sections so that it will sort of make sense, but I'm exhausted, my mind is wandering... oh, and I have the hiccups.

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OK, I'm not perfect. I'm not even close to perfect. But some days, weeks, well, I'm less perfect than others. It's been a tough week.

First, I believe in spaying and neutering pets. I especially believe in it after living in a small town where a lot of people don't and there are an incredible number of unwanted "strays" that have miserable and short lives. I won't get on my soapbox about this for long, but it breaks my heart. The animals didn't ask to be born, and they don't deserve mistreatment.

BUT it was probably not the smartest/best plan of action to neuter the cat and spay the puppy the same week. Both surgeries went well, but the recuperation keeping them both inside resting but away from each other has been... tricky. Doing this when I'm getting ready for a visit to my folks AND I've got edits due AND am in the middle of a new book is worse than tricky.

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I hate feeling frustrated. It's stupid, of course, because frustration is a part of life. It is PARTICULARLY a part of life for anyone who has children and/or pets, or interacts with other human beings, or... well... it's just inevitable OK. But I'm trying to recover today from a bout of serious frustration.

First, I can't seem to get anything DONE and then have it STAY done. Housework for example, and laundry, dishes. You do all that stuff, and it is undone within minutes. The dishes are washed, dried, even put away, and then you hear someone in the kitchen cooking and see a dirty glass sitting around, and off you go again. You change the litterbox and the cats REJOICE by going in and taking a fresh dump. You're wearing clothes when you do laundry, so there's more laundry. You get the picture.

Yesterday's frustration came early and lasted all day. It was like 95 degrees already at 7:00 a.m. I was taking Lucky to the vet to be spayed. I get her outside, am trying to get her to go into the truck (which she usually LOVES and wants to climb in when she ISN'T supposed to) and she balks. She not only balks, she bolts, slips out of her collar, and starts sprinting down one of the busiest streets in town (which while not up to Denver standards by any stretch, was busy enough during the morning commute to nearly give me a heart attack.) She's a cattle dog breed. They are FAST, can turn on a dime, and well, let's just say I'm not as young and limber as I used to be. I finally caught her parading herself in front of a fence with three unaltered males going nuts behind it. Get the collar on her and tighten it. (Wishing now I had the choke collar, but hadn't thought I needed it because she's normally so good about this shit, and now I don't have time to go get it). Get her back and it happens again! (This time she found an unaltered male dachshund (sp?)whose owner came out to find out what was causing the commotion and wound up laughing fairly hysterically about it. By the time I finally got her loaded into the truck and to the vet I was a wreck, which wouldn't have been so bad, except I was going straight from the vet to my doctor out of town and was now arriving dripping sweat, dischievelled, and smelling very strongly of dog.

Got there late (of course). When they tried to draw blood they couldn't get my body to cooperate. NOPE. All blood was supposed to stay inside, thank you very much! Took them five sticks before they finally got a vein by using my wrist. They were frustrated and embarrassed, and I was running late to my lunch appointment. Tried to call my editor, Anna Genoese on business, but missed her completely. Tried to get my prescription, but the pharmacy couldn't read the writing and the doctor's office was closed, so they're having to call this morning instead. Went to the bank, and for some reason they're getting back my mail. The post office says I don't live here anymore. This confused the heck out of the bank because, well, they're the ones with my home loan.

All day I operated at a dead run, and everything I touched went reverse-Midas on me. I am SOOOOOO glad to start over this morning.

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I am a Catholic Christian. (There are people who say Catholics aren't Christians, which doesn't make a bit of sense to me. Our religion is based around Christ being the savior, so what's up with saying we're not Christian. Makes no sense to me at all.) ANYWAY, I am. I believe in it. I'm not ashamed of it. I try to live my life according to my beliefs. Some days I do better than others, but I try.

BUT I HAVE A BONE TO PICK. What is with all of these "threatening" e-mails. I will get a wonderful, inspirational (in the literal sense) e-mail that will have me smiling, and then we get to the end: THE THREAT. If you don't forward this to everybody and their dog instantly you WILL GO TO HELL, you are ASHAMED OF GOD who will, in turn BE ASHAMED OF YOU (revert back to the YOU WILL GO TO HELL). This paragraph instantly erases every bit of good accomplished in all the other paragraphs. I see red. I snarl. Even if I would've sent it on (because I really think the inspirational part is cool) to people who would appreciate it I stop. The only way I will pass it on now is if I take the time to cut and paste the first part without the last part. NOT BECAUSE I'M ASHAMED but because I don't want to be an emotional bully and ram my attitudes down someone else's throat.

If you present the information to someone, and it is good information, you don't need to hold a gun to their head (figuratively or literally) to get them to believe it. In fact, if you do they're going to be a little distracted (well, more than a LITTLE) and disgruntled (to put it mildly) and miss the point of the information completely and just cut to resentment of the bullying. In my opinion this kind of crap is counterproductive to actually being a positive influence on people, which is the point, I think, of evangelism. (I'm not sure, since I'm not terribly evangelistic.)

BUT there is this vague sense of guilt, like, maybe I'm making excuses. Maybe I should be thinking the way these other people are. What's wrong with me? This is partially a result of a good Catholic upbringing. Guilt is a part of my life. But it is also more pronounced because I've moved into the "bible belt" and I SOOOOOOOO don't fit in. So, to address this issue right now and forever. I'm NOT ASHAMED OF GOD, but I don't forward e-mails with the bullying paragraphs.