Howdy Friends,
And so the day had come. After a good few weeks of speculation and pondering over whether or not to get my baby castrated I had finally made the decisions and the day was here. As I bundled my little bundle of joy into the front passengers seat and sat my packed lunch on the floor next to him I looked into his deep black eyes as he wondered where the fuck I was taking him so early in the day.
As we pulled off the drive way I couldn't help but think that our older pooch would be glad of the peace and quiet, a restful day for her no doubt. A thought crossed my mind as I drove out of the village that maybe my little fur-baby thought I was bringing him to work with me, another Momma and Pupper day out. No this was not the case I am afraid little one. We are off to the Vets to get you snipped.
As I had queried before, ever since I knew I wanted a puppy I have always wanted a boy. I suppose as that is what most people revert back to with the whole "whose a good boy" thing, even with our female pooch. I had considered studding him out like some sort of doggo pimpess however on closer consideration I decided to protect his innocence and get him castrated. The surgical way of neutering a male meant that ultimately I would be preventing him from reproducing and since I had no real breeding or stud plan and would only really doing it ad-hoc and when we needed money on a cash-cow basis I thought it unfair to give him a taste and then to take it away from him, leaving him hungry for more with no real idea whether it ill be next month, next year or ever.
Arriving at the Veterinary Practice in good time we needed a nit of a clean up operation in the car as there was a little pukey accident. Nevertheless we carried on and I attended his Pre-Op check over to confirm his vitals and that he was healthy to undergo the procedure.
"Now dont expect any phone call before about 2pm, he probably will be sleepy until about then anyway from the anaesthesia" the Nurse said as I left my baby in her arms.
Heading out the door of the clinic I rushed to work and made it there just in time.
Worrying all morning I thought of the horror stories I had heard about it all going wrong and how my Aunties dog had nearly died as the Vet's didn't know he was allergic to anaesthetic. Just as I had thought what would happen if I lost my little Franker-doodles the phone rang. It was the Vets. It was also 11am - Much before the 2pm expected time of the call! Answering I must have sounded panicked as the lovely receptionist put my mind at easy and said he was out from theatre and that the surgery had been a success. After explaining how the rest of the day would go she hung up and I looked forward to being able to see my little floof later on, all in the knowledge that he was in the absolute best capable hands and being very well looked after with plenty of fuss and cuddles.
Getting back to work it was less than twenty-minutes before I received another call. Again, I answered worried for what had happened in the mean time.
"So everything is fine but .. " the receptionist began as she continued to tell me how much my pup hated being in the kennels. I explained (as if they didn't already know) that he has just woken up from major surgery where he is in a tiny cold cage and doesn't know anyone's faces that are coming to him. Of course he is going t be freaked out. The receptionist pushed further and asked if I could come and collect him as he just wasn't settling. After explaining that I worked over forty-minutes away in Bedford and that I couldn't collect him she pushed further and asked if there was any way I could collect him on my lunch break. Feeling like a cold-ass bitch I stated that I only have a half-hour lunch break and I could not make it to the practice and back in that time, nor that it would be practical as I would then have to drop him back home to be alone and by himself which simply wasn't fair. I explained that whilst I appreciated he was a bit noisy and needy and unsettled that I would try and leave work earlier but that it wasn't set in stone.
Finishing at my normal time I hurried over to the Veterinary practice to pick up my little lump with no bumps. No sooner had I walked through the door and I heard him, crying in a back room somewhere. I wanted to just rush straight through, but I knew I couldn't. But if I thought that was annoying and grating I hadn't had the full force of the Franken-toad yet. Checking myself in I heard him silence as he listened for my voice. As soon as he had confirmed it was me there was no stopping the little fella. Howling and crying and barking and screaming and woofing and all the carrying on as if he was being murdered.
"He is sooo cute ... " the nurses and the receptionist began.
"But he has been doing this all day" they said with a slight grimace across their smiles. Embarrassed I hung my head and hoped no one else with all their well behaved pets would ask any questions. They did. And I had no choice but to own up. Yes that noisy little monster was mine. My Frankenstein. Bringing him out I think the staff were glad to see the back of me, and walking out I booked in our follow up Post-Op visit for a few days time.
That evening we had a very sleepy puppy, and when he wasn't sleeping he was either staring off into space as he was so fucking high or bumbling around in a drunken like stooper. A bit of tea and an early night for him Mr Warehouse and I put our little Frankle-puff to bed and headed off ourselves. Since then he has been right as rain. Still fucking manic and non-stop, but I suppose that is what you get with a toy poodle cross jack russell.
Even for Warehouse's surprise birthday party on Saturday I thought that he would have calmed down a bit but nope. Just chased his sister (Momma Warehouse bought his sister, a smooth coated version of him, almost Dachshund in appearance so they can still be in touch) round the garden and playing with the kids. I was able to steal away a moment for myself (after ushering Mr Warehouse out to the pub to watch footie and rushing around like a blue arse fly all morning trying to get everything ready) I stood by the back door, watching the pups play, in fact watching all our family and friends drink and chat, laughing away with each other. It was then that I realised that I was probably at the peak of happiness, at least since last year anyway. Oh what a difference a year makes - Engaged, Homeowner and has her own puppy. I mean all bar earning over £23k a year I have ticked off all my New Years Resolutions, well, that and slimming down to a size 14 as usual.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Lonely. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lonely. Show all posts
Monday, 19 August 2019
Monday, 21 May 2018
The Cloud
Evening Everyone,
And so as another weekend rolls around, so do the many reasons as to why are flat still looks the same as it did four weeks ago. The thing is when I landlord is in the process of upgrading and potentially remodelling some of the areas of our flat, I am hesitant to start any work of our own until he has fully finished what he would like to do so I can work out exactly what I need and when I need it so we can crack on with our own little DIY projects.
I feel at the moment as though the flat and housing situation is a bit of a double edge sword. On the one hand I want to make our little home as special and nice as possible whilst we try and desperately save for a house of our own one day, all whilst still feeling the same as I did this time last year when I wrote the blog post about being a misfortuned statistic in "Generation X" whereby many of our parents and grandparents reaped the benefits of having plentiful and affordable housing, a lower cost of living and stable employment with good earning potential. With this in mind, I can fully understand why some adult children are still living at home when they are my age. However that being said I was never given that option. Living by myself since I was seventeen I have always strived for a perfect home that I would be able to host parties in, everything from my tiny little one bedroom single room I rented from an Indian woman back in college, right through to my large and spacious one bedroom ground floor flat with a patio.
Albeit it is not perfect but it is currently where I call home. Now whilst I feel grateful for what I have, I also partly begrudge spending money on something that will realistically not necessarily improve my situation. I mean, why would I optionally spend money on a property that both is not mine and will not benefit me when I come to move. It's not as though we can take down the wallpaper or strip the paint when we leave and take it with us. I think I know that realistically if Mr. Warehouse and I do up the flat, it may not have to cost the Earth and in all sense of the matter will make me feel a lot better.
Truth be told is that I have not been feeling myself of late. Gone are the cheery "Hellos" and sunshine smiles only to be replaced with dull colours and a loss of smell and taste. Instead my usually warm and bubbly personality has been replaced with a cloudy view and very little laughter. Honestly it scares me how much I have changed in the last week or so. A part of me wants to talk to everyone about what I'm feeling, shouting it from the rooftops or whispering until the early hours. And yet at the same time I feel as though I would be burdening someone with such a pessimistic outlook on life and want to hide it all away and pretend that everything is OK.
Why am I feeling this way? Truthfully - I don't know. Right now it seems as though there is a lot of things that I don't know. There are potentially a few things in my life at the moment that could be causing me to feel like this. Whilst I am struggling to accept that it was a big deal, my grandfather passing away has probably had more of an effect on me than I first thought. With the passing and the funeral being a good few weeks apart it was almost like living in a weird grey scale limbo-land whereby nothing really changed and all we seem to talk about was funerals, death and family feuds.
This, coupled with the fact that less than a week later I was attending the wedding of my best friend who, within the next eight-weeks or so, will be leaving for America, and as dramatic as it sounds may never return to back home to the UK again. The worst thing being is that I would not feel guilty at all about leaving those behind and would have been on the first plane out of here, long gone before anyone even had a tear in their eye. And that makes it worse for I know that I should be happy and glad that she has such a wonderful opportunity to create such a fantastic life for her and her new husband out in the world of the hopeful.
You see depression is a big word not just in size but also in how I feel. Depression makes even the smaller things in life appear so much more prominently in your mind and bigger than in reality they probably are. On it's own I could have probably dealt with my granddad's passing and the funeral. On it's own I could have probably dealt with the beautiful nuptials of my best friend and her emigrating to her new life. On it's own I probably wouldn't feel so awful about myself, my weight and how I look. On it's own I probably wouldn't feel so desperately trapped and hopeless buy our flat and the lack of resources to make ourselves a better solution. But the problem is that none of these come by themselves. Unlike the last times I have felt cloudy and sad I have always been able to put it down to just one thing. My Dad went to war, my parents divorced, I got kicked out, My boyfriend left me. But what happens when it is not just one box that is ticked but all of the above.
Am I clinically depressed? I don't know and I suppose until I see a doctor or professional there is no way of medically telling. Do I feel depressed? Yes. All the fun out of normal things I used to find enjoyable or make me happy now it seem like a lot of effort and with very little joy coming from them seem pointless. I certainly know what depression feels like but the question is - Am I there yet? No, but the constant and unnerving feeling of not being wanted or loved by the people who should and just being a general annoyance to people is something I simply can't shake off right now. The thing is that I know it is all a lie that the Demons in my head are telling me, making me question and second guess myself knocking my confidence even further, pushing me further into a downward spiral.
I know that this is just a phase and that the clouds will soon pass making way for my true self to reappear once more. I just need to immerse myself and really try to bring myself out of this darkness, surrounding myself with good friends laughter and happiness.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so as another weekend rolls around, so do the many reasons as to why are flat still looks the same as it did four weeks ago. The thing is when I landlord is in the process of upgrading and potentially remodelling some of the areas of our flat, I am hesitant to start any work of our own until he has fully finished what he would like to do so I can work out exactly what I need and when I need it so we can crack on with our own little DIY projects.
I feel at the moment as though the flat and housing situation is a bit of a double edge sword. On the one hand I want to make our little home as special and nice as possible whilst we try and desperately save for a house of our own one day, all whilst still feeling the same as I did this time last year when I wrote the blog post about being a misfortuned statistic in "Generation X" whereby many of our parents and grandparents reaped the benefits of having plentiful and affordable housing, a lower cost of living and stable employment with good earning potential. With this in mind, I can fully understand why some adult children are still living at home when they are my age. However that being said I was never given that option. Living by myself since I was seventeen I have always strived for a perfect home that I would be able to host parties in, everything from my tiny little one bedroom single room I rented from an Indian woman back in college, right through to my large and spacious one bedroom ground floor flat with a patio.
Truth be told is that I have not been feeling myself of late. Gone are the cheery "Hellos" and sunshine smiles only to be replaced with dull colours and a loss of smell and taste. Instead my usually warm and bubbly personality has been replaced with a cloudy view and very little laughter. Honestly it scares me how much I have changed in the last week or so. A part of me wants to talk to everyone about what I'm feeling, shouting it from the rooftops or whispering until the early hours. And yet at the same time I feel as though I would be burdening someone with such a pessimistic outlook on life and want to hide it all away and pretend that everything is OK.
Why am I feeling this way? Truthfully - I don't know. Right now it seems as though there is a lot of things that I don't know. There are potentially a few things in my life at the moment that could be causing me to feel like this. Whilst I am struggling to accept that it was a big deal, my grandfather passing away has probably had more of an effect on me than I first thought. With the passing and the funeral being a good few weeks apart it was almost like living in a weird grey scale limbo-land whereby nothing really changed and all we seem to talk about was funerals, death and family feuds.
This, coupled with the fact that less than a week later I was attending the wedding of my best friend who, within the next eight-weeks or so, will be leaving for America, and as dramatic as it sounds may never return to back home to the UK again. The worst thing being is that I would not feel guilty at all about leaving those behind and would have been on the first plane out of here, long gone before anyone even had a tear in their eye. And that makes it worse for I know that I should be happy and glad that she has such a wonderful opportunity to create such a fantastic life for her and her new husband out in the world of the hopeful.
You see depression is a big word not just in size but also in how I feel. Depression makes even the smaller things in life appear so much more prominently in your mind and bigger than in reality they probably are. On it's own I could have probably dealt with my granddad's passing and the funeral. On it's own I could have probably dealt with the beautiful nuptials of my best friend and her emigrating to her new life. On it's own I probably wouldn't feel so awful about myself, my weight and how I look. On it's own I probably wouldn't feel so desperately trapped and hopeless buy our flat and the lack of resources to make ourselves a better solution. But the problem is that none of these come by themselves. Unlike the last times I have felt cloudy and sad I have always been able to put it down to just one thing. My Dad went to war, my parents divorced, I got kicked out, My boyfriend left me. But what happens when it is not just one box that is ticked but all of the above.
Am I clinically depressed? I don't know and I suppose until I see a doctor or professional there is no way of medically telling. Do I feel depressed? Yes. All the fun out of normal things I used to find enjoyable or make me happy now it seem like a lot of effort and with very little joy coming from them seem pointless. I certainly know what depression feels like but the question is - Am I there yet? No, but the constant and unnerving feeling of not being wanted or loved by the people who should and just being a general annoyance to people is something I simply can't shake off right now. The thing is that I know it is all a lie that the Demons in my head are telling me, making me question and second guess myself knocking my confidence even further, pushing me further into a downward spiral.
I know that this is just a phase and that the clouds will soon pass making way for my true self to reappear once more. I just need to immerse myself and really try to bring myself out of this darkness, surrounding myself with good friends laughter and happiness.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 3 March 2014
How To Wrap Bread and Other Stories!
Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx
Morning All,
So after looking back through the altercations of last week I realized it was slightly melancholy if I do say so myself. Thankfully things are starting to peak but not after some rough "single-girl" moments that I have had to endure this week. Nevertheless I have improved my mood and you'll never guess what did it ...
Friday evening rolled around and after regretfully turning down a night out with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tatts and some old friends I settled down into the sofa, grateful that this will be the last night sleeping on it before my mattress was due to arrive the following morning. However after watching 'Bridesmaids', a film I had been meaning to see for some while, I ended my evening crying into a lone scatter cushion wishing that I too had a man that wanted me that much. Irish accent and being a cop were obviously optional but I wouldn't turn many people down - Unless you had a face that looked like a bag of burnt Lego bricks! Finally I settled down in bed, thought the same old thoughts I always do before drifting off into a deep and warm sleep. Thankfully I didn't have one of my reoccurring nightmares in particular one's of my own wedding day. In hindsight now I don't think I have ever had a pleasant dream of my wedding. There is always something going wrong - The groom doesn't turn up, my dress is ugly, my Dad dies before he gets the chance to walk me down the aisle, my mother turns up, Mr. Workaholic burst's in confessing his undying love for me and I somehow have to get him out or even worse, I'm early. The latest was whereby I had know idea whether my groom even wanted to marry me or not. It was terrifying. And yes, I did know who the groom was. Although it wasn't all bad though as my nightmare ended in a dream-like state when I found myself being rushed down an empty street crammed full of attractive suited men. Only issue is that I was lying belly first on a hospital bed with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee pushing it down the road, wedding dress up by my tits, flashing all the boys. Seriously don't laugh. Whilst it was an entertaining end it still had me waking up in a sweat!
As morning broke on Saturday I aimed to have a productive day and maybe head out into the Town Centre for some shopping or actually tidy my little flat. None of that happened and I ended up spending the majority of the weekend wrapped up on the sofa, eating and watching crap. It dawned on me that having a boyfriend or even someone of such status is much better than being single. I was starting to hate single life right there and a part of me yearned to message Mr. Cheese. It had crossed my mind then to message Mr. Minigolf since I had not heard from him since he cancelled our date. I suppose a part of me knew that it was a lost cause as he hadn't contacted me at all but I threw caution to the wind as per usual and tapped out something generic. To my surprise within minutes I had a response but conversation quickly dried up. Getting darker outside it was clear I wasn't to be moved from my couch let alone venturing outside! As the weekend telly kicked in I watched people kissing, holding hands and even one happy couple share their engagement with the world on live TV. Aggravating as it was to Single-Me, Relationship-Me loved the idea and praised the man's bravery. Begrudgingly I made cookies to take my mind off things but that didn't help and neither was the romcom I watched later on and I was feeling crappy with a mix of junk food, lack of male attention and my lonely self seemed to make everything ten-times worse.
My mattress had been delivered earlier that afternoon and was freshly sat on my bed ready for my weary head, I couldn't help stare at it thinking that this was the epitome of Singlesville. Not wanting to I clambered into the clean, crisp sheets and snuggled down. Looking up at the stars from my roof light it felt as if for the first time this year I knew that everything in life was going to be alright. Sunday I planned to be more structured and aimed to get more done. It was not an attempt in vain and whilst everything still has not got a place in the flat, slowly but surely its getting there. Sunday evening I had been invited to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's family home for a roast and much appreciated that was. Cooking a roast for one is just so sad and lonely and the cardboard ready meals are even worse! Before dinner however was a good old chin-wag with Miss Tweedle-Dumb. I thought about talking to her about Mr. Minigolf and the fact that we had been messaging most of the afternoon but I didn't want to jinx it as I was starting to like him a little and knew how easily things could turn sour. Instead the conversation turned to our work processes again as we had discussed also on Thursday evening when we both met for dinner after work.
Before we knew it we were laughing about all the things that piss us off about guys and how Mr. Workaholic had this weird spray/spitting thing that would happen whenever he got excited. Turns out Miss Tweedle-Dumb does that too. I felt it - Eww! Digression continued into how to arrange a fridge with regards to sandwich making, fruit and vegetables and other miscellaneous items, not to mention a rundown of Miss Tweedle-Dumb's guide on how to wrap bread. Now I am well aware at this point in your reading you are probably wondering what the fuck I am on about and how my best-friend and I have very odd conversation but I'm sorry guys I can't be pillow fights and making out all the time!
Leaving Miss Tweedle-Dumb's last night was fun but after talking of our Reading Festival trip in summer I decided to listen to some Arctic Monkeys who have recently been headlined for the weekend. If you haven't heard them then where have you been the past decade, grab their album 'AM' and tick it on repeat. Mind you that's exactly what I have been doing since yesterday evening and all I can think about when hearing the melodies in my ears is how much I want to have Mr. Minigolf on my couch, straddled and begging for me to push it a little further. I cant stop it. Seriously I was on my way to work this morning and I couldn't stop thinking about it a massive smile cracking my face in half thinking about all the things we could do as sounds of guitars and other instruments swooned through the lustful air. Even now my mind is racing with bad thoughts. Hmm ...
And as the new week begins I wonder what it has in store for me and all I encompass. I have a few tricks up my sleeve to keep life interesting so maybe you'll hear some of them next week?!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Morning All,
So after looking back through the altercations of last week I realized it was slightly melancholy if I do say so myself. Thankfully things are starting to peak but not after some rough "single-girl" moments that I have had to endure this week. Nevertheless I have improved my mood and you'll never guess what did it ...
Friday evening rolled around and after regretfully turning down a night out with Miss Chocolate, Miss Tatts and some old friends I settled down into the sofa, grateful that this will be the last night sleeping on it before my mattress was due to arrive the following morning. However after watching 'Bridesmaids', a film I had been meaning to see for some while, I ended my evening crying into a lone scatter cushion wishing that I too had a man that wanted me that much. Irish accent and being a cop were obviously optional but I wouldn't turn many people down - Unless you had a face that looked like a bag of burnt Lego bricks! Finally I settled down in bed, thought the same old thoughts I always do before drifting off into a deep and warm sleep. Thankfully I didn't have one of my reoccurring nightmares in particular one's of my own wedding day. In hindsight now I don't think I have ever had a pleasant dream of my wedding. There is always something going wrong - The groom doesn't turn up, my dress is ugly, my Dad dies before he gets the chance to walk me down the aisle, my mother turns up, Mr. Workaholic burst's in confessing his undying love for me and I somehow have to get him out or even worse, I'm early. The latest was whereby I had know idea whether my groom even wanted to marry me or not. It was terrifying. And yes, I did know who the groom was. Although it wasn't all bad though as my nightmare ended in a dream-like state when I found myself being rushed down an empty street crammed full of attractive suited men. Only issue is that I was lying belly first on a hospital bed with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee pushing it down the road, wedding dress up by my tits, flashing all the boys. Seriously don't laugh. Whilst it was an entertaining end it still had me waking up in a sweat!
As morning broke on Saturday I aimed to have a productive day and maybe head out into the Town Centre for some shopping or actually tidy my little flat. None of that happened and I ended up spending the majority of the weekend wrapped up on the sofa, eating and watching crap. It dawned on me that having a boyfriend or even someone of such status is much better than being single. I was starting to hate single life right there and a part of me yearned to message Mr. Cheese. It had crossed my mind then to message Mr. Minigolf since I had not heard from him since he cancelled our date. I suppose a part of me knew that it was a lost cause as he hadn't contacted me at all but I threw caution to the wind as per usual and tapped out something generic. To my surprise within minutes I had a response but conversation quickly dried up. Getting darker outside it was clear I wasn't to be moved from my couch let alone venturing outside! As the weekend telly kicked in I watched people kissing, holding hands and even one happy couple share their engagement with the world on live TV. Aggravating as it was to Single-Me, Relationship-Me loved the idea and praised the man's bravery. Begrudgingly I made cookies to take my mind off things but that didn't help and neither was the romcom I watched later on and I was feeling crappy with a mix of junk food, lack of male attention and my lonely self seemed to make everything ten-times worse.
My mattress had been delivered earlier that afternoon and was freshly sat on my bed ready for my weary head, I couldn't help stare at it thinking that this was the epitome of Singlesville. Not wanting to I clambered into the clean, crisp sheets and snuggled down. Looking up at the stars from my roof light it felt as if for the first time this year I knew that everything in life was going to be alright. Sunday I planned to be more structured and aimed to get more done. It was not an attempt in vain and whilst everything still has not got a place in the flat, slowly but surely its getting there. Sunday evening I had been invited to Miss Tweedle-Dumb's family home for a roast and much appreciated that was. Cooking a roast for one is just so sad and lonely and the cardboard ready meals are even worse! Before dinner however was a good old chin-wag with Miss Tweedle-Dumb. I thought about talking to her about Mr. Minigolf and the fact that we had been messaging most of the afternoon but I didn't want to jinx it as I was starting to like him a little and knew how easily things could turn sour. Instead the conversation turned to our work processes again as we had discussed also on Thursday evening when we both met for dinner after work.
Before we knew it we were laughing about all the things that piss us off about guys and how Mr. Workaholic had this weird spray/spitting thing that would happen whenever he got excited. Turns out Miss Tweedle-Dumb does that too. I felt it - Eww! Digression continued into how to arrange a fridge with regards to sandwich making, fruit and vegetables and other miscellaneous items, not to mention a rundown of Miss Tweedle-Dumb's guide on how to wrap bread. Now I am well aware at this point in your reading you are probably wondering what the fuck I am on about and how my best-friend and I have very odd conversation but I'm sorry guys I can't be pillow fights and making out all the time!
Leaving Miss Tweedle-Dumb's last night was fun but after talking of our Reading Festival trip in summer I decided to listen to some Arctic Monkeys who have recently been headlined for the weekend. If you haven't heard them then where have you been the past decade, grab their album 'AM' and tick it on repeat. Mind you that's exactly what I have been doing since yesterday evening and all I can think about when hearing the melodies in my ears is how much I want to have Mr. Minigolf on my couch, straddled and begging for me to push it a little further. I cant stop it. Seriously I was on my way to work this morning and I couldn't stop thinking about it a massive smile cracking my face in half thinking about all the things we could do as sounds of guitars and other instruments swooned through the lustful air. Even now my mind is racing with bad thoughts. Hmm ...
And as the new week begins I wonder what it has in store for me and all I encompass. I have a few tricks up my sleeve to keep life interesting so maybe you'll hear some of them next week?!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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