Sunday, November 19, 2006

Très calme

Hello, it’s Sunday and très calme chez moi. I was very very stressed out the past few days and things were starting to get unbearable. I have taken to grunting loudly when I am alone to get the stress out of my body so that I can prevent an impending ulcer. I kinda sound like that really ugly guy from the goonies, or at least the sound I make actually sounds the way that he looks. I got out of my shift at work yesterday and had the whole weekend to recover myself and do homework. Actually I should be studying for an exam right now. It is at exactly 9:00am tomorrow morning. I have barely studied all day even though it is the only thing I have had to do today! But I don’t want to think about that!

I have a screensaver of my dog and myself on my computer. We look really close in the photo and when I look at it, it reminds me of how much I love her. But lately it is reminding me of what a horrible mother I am. I mean she is relegated to sleeping on a dirty (I wash it every once in a while) disc of a doggie bed. I don’t wake up and think of her first and immediately take her out for a walk or even the opportunity to pee. Instead I make her wait for hours, the whole time feeling guilty and ashamed of myself for wanting to just be left the hell alone and do my morning thing without having to walk her first thing in the morning. Every guest is better at this than myself. Every time one of my family members or friends comes to stay they are singing and chirping and off handedly mention that they walked Shaka already. I am always overwhelmed with joy, guilt and relief at not having to do it myself. I profusely thank them which is usually met with “I did it for her, not for you” kind of comment. “Right, yeah, of course, this is about her” – and that is why I suck as a mom! And she knows it! She hates me to, I am sure of it. And the times when I actually try to make up for it, she just manipulates me into feeling worse about all of the times that I don’t walk her enough and I end up making promises to her that she 1.) can’t understand 2.) would immediately forget because of her doggy memory even if she did understand 3.) has no reason to believe at all even if she could understand and remember, because I have only ever done the contrary! Instead she sighs heavily, tucks her foot under her chest, and looks away to the side, leaving me feeling like the ass of a doggy mom that I truly am. Oh well, I just hope she doesn’t die before I can make it up to her by being a really good mom all the time. Maybe I’ll start now, maybe I’ll get dressed, not study for my test in the morning and just go ahead and walk the brat around the block…nahhh, it’s too cold out there!

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