It appears as if I have quit my job to take care of my two dogs. The poor things have been sick as, well, dogs. We went to Long Island. Had a nice, but challenging time. A lot of tending to the dogs. Ticks. Escapee dog. Oscar was sick on our trip, including in the car. We arrived home last night. Bridgette was sick all night and all this morning. I have been cleaning since 3:15 a.m. On and off. It's off right now. 3:15 p.m. now. Huh. 12 hours of cleaning and racing in and out of the apartment trying to avoid accidents (most were unavoidable -- the high-rise apartment thing does not avail itself to such a task).
Thank goodness I have a calm, non-judgmental, helpful, loving mother. The trip was very enjoyable despite our challenges. It could have been a nightmare.
The dogs are resting now and I am getting to post to my blog. I will get to unpack, answer emails, take a shower, maybe talk to someone on the phone. I need to go through mail, make some appointments. Maybe practice my French. I am not planning to do anything out of the apartment should disaster illness strike. I am definitely NOT planning the next steps of my career today. It looks like just holding down the fort will do. I suspect this may be the calm before the next sick storm, so I am just getting everything in order.
"She has no life" you may be saying to yourself. Yes, I am about to be 40 and have quit my job, am "finding myself" to create my career and am taking care of two dogs who I write about a lot. Like I said when I started, this could be reckless or limitless. I do love my dogs. . .
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