I Guess It Stays With You

I have these irrational fears that someone is going to hurt my dog.

I mean... they aren't irrational when you get down to it. Someone was climbing into my house and he left and then he came back and my dog was there, barking pretty obviously in a way that, had I been breaking into someone's home in the night, I would have taken to mean, "Stop right there! Do not advance! Get out!"

She didn't stop whomever it was and as a good little thinker, I naturally assume that the logical conclusion is that the person was prepared to hurt my doglet.

I get that she's small but she's not a lap dog, she's almost thirty pounds! My friend was like, "Well that's stupid! The only reason she didn't attack was because you were there and you're the Alpha so she was waiting for you to do it!"
Ummmmm.... Dog Whisperer Fan?
She didn't attack because she's really smart and she used her doggy sense to sniff out the cold blade of a big knife and she knew that her spotty red head would get sliced and she knew that Mama can't afford a trip to the doglet ER so she stayed back out of the way.

"That's ridiculous. He kept coming because she doesn't LOOK like she's 30 pounds. She LOOKS like she's 15 pounds. He thought he could give her a good swift kick, or maybe pick her up and put her in his pocket."

Okay, CSI Fan? He kept coming because he followed me home and he knew she was well-trained and would wait from the command from her Alpha before she did anything but by then, it would be too late and the Person ER doctors would have had to pry my bleeding dogger from my cold, grey fingers and the evidence would be all fucked up from dog fur.

Whatever the real reason, I am having some pretty serious separation anxiety feelings about my dog. I don't feel safe without her but I don't want to leave my place empty but I am terrified in a really core place that something awful would have happened to her if I hadn't been home.

I guess I need to get another dog.

A little.
I'm not getting another dog, unless it comes with a wealthy husband and the freedom to be the total weirdo who has a new creative idea every 18 seconds and DOES NOT have to stifle it in order to make sure that other people's stuff gets signed and dated and mailed or whatever.

I have to deal with their crises, not mine. I'm tired of turning off so I can turn on and tune in and not, let me emphasize, in the fun, drug-loving way that Timothy Leary meant. Sadly, I am actually using that drug reference in the lame, corporate conference, trying-to-be-almost-hip-way that reeks of an urn of coffee in the back of the room and carpet shampoo.

The problem here is that I have a couple of invitations - one I put off and the other I don’t know how to change. My stomach says deal with it but my head says, "So what? You're a freak! Love it! Stay home, weirdo! That way, you'll never know about the rich hubs that you don’t have! Lifetime Television for Women will give you a host of examples of why Prince Charming is never what he seems to be."

I also tweaked an old injury over the weekend. It's a middle-back injury but anything in that region tends to mean that breathing hurts - your lungs expand those muscles and when one is a knotty mess of fiber, things are no good for desk-sitting or for sleeping or whatever. In the past three days, I've gotten acupuncture, a shot of cortisone in my upper back, and awesome drugs. I got clearance on skating today, which… thank god.
It's been a big week for needles.

I dunno.

I feel like this website might be a problem.

A lot of people read it.
I feel like things are to the point where I can't always say what I really think and I can't say where I am going or when I'm going there.
By the way, can I have like, $450 to go home for Thanksgiving?
As I've mentioned, airfare is a son of a bitch and as I've mentioned in years past, Thanksgiving is the stupidest time of year for a family reunion, so of course, it's when my family decides they can all descend on a relatively unreachable and back-woods part of the country.
If they did this in October or February, everyone could afford to go.
As it is, it's at Thanksgiving and two things to understand about not going:
1. You can't NOT go. Trust me, I've tried. You get guilt times 18 people and any remotely feeling-type person will be affected.
2. You want to go. I love my family and I want to see them all at once and for an extended period of hanging out time. I just wish it could be done at a part of the year that is kinder to all of the young adult wallets in our family.

Not that I'm going anywhere, ever.
I don't feel safe, even though I have created a courtyard that is brighter at night than it is at midday, for all the motion lights and I carry personal defense mechanisms and I walk pretty much crouched in the Ready Position.

Fuck it.
I'm calling my EAP tonight.

This is out of control on levels that I can't even talk about because of all the people reading who know me and that didn't used to bother me but ever since the break-in, I mind.
A lot.

arizonasarah at 2:19 p.m.

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