Name that tune.
It is so fucking hot and I am so fucking miserable. It keeps thundering and threatening to rain, but does it? Like fuck it does. *whine*
Right at this very moment, I am letting Boo colour in her book. Me. Someone who holds books sacred. But you know what? It's keeping her quiet. She's not shrieking the house down. She's scribbling all over a Disney Winnie The Pooh book and I'm just FINE with that.
I firmly believe that space aliens have kidnapped my daughter and replaced her with a screaming, shrieking, hellacious termagent. If I didn't believe that then I'd have to accept that my sweet little snuggly baby has become a hellion. And that's what she is - pure, unadulterated hellion. It's unbelievable. I picked a hell of a time to stay home from work.
And now, the dog. We are going to pay for her treatment. TCBIM and I went up there yesterday to discuss all this with them. Because I signed this thing when I went there initially and when I re-read it, it said that I authorized the treatment. So, even though she said she'd call me, I gave the ok for her to treat. It's my own fault for not reading the blurb I signed. But they're letting us pay $25 a month and not charging us interest on that, so it's something. It's not much, but it's better than pay it all up now.
The dog has her back leg strapped up to her body. It's going to be like that for three weeks and it may not work. If it doesn't work, we can either leave it or spend in excess, I'm now being told, of $2000 to get her fixed. Guess I'll have a gimpy dog.
I'm off to melt.