Thursday, October 02, 2003

It always happens. I go on about how thoughtful Jason is, then we have a big ole fight. Last night, it was about me getting off my butt to finish a family cartoon portrait for a friend of his brothers. I was thinking, you know, finish it by Christmas. He was thinking, you know, finish it last Thursday. Blah, blah, blah, him raising his voice, me stomping off, such is marriage. We made up later. He was the one 90% wrong, so he did 90% of the apologizing. We are pretty fair that way.

I have been in a two day long meeting with my category. I get so sick of bitching and whining and complaining. You know, life is tough. Pray about it, take some medication if you need it, get some therapy and MOVE ON. I don't believe in quick fixes for big problems, but I get so sick of people wallowing in their own pity ponds. They've found a crutch, so there they stay. You are just damaging yourself by not throwing out the crutch and learning how to walk.

Unless of course, you are actually crippled. That is okay. Keep the crutches.

My husband works with schizophrenic people. They would give anything to be leading a normal life. To own their own house. To have a real job. Whenever I need to be reminded how much opportunity I have, I just go visit his work. I am complaining about "poor me. I feel sad sometimes," and these people can't get EVIL VOICES out of their heads or stop seeing little green men. One lady thinks she's Mary, the mother of Jesus. How's that for baggage.

Sorry about the rant.

In other news, Jason brought home another dog for me to fix up. It's a long-haired dachshund. I named her Mary Jane because she was living in one of the drug-dealing houses near Jason's work. I was thinking Lady Cocaine or Miss Meth, but I thought Mary Jane sounded the prettiest. I gave her a bath, and picked her ticks off and she's a pretty good looking dog. Better than the Chow--he was ugly. I'll take her to the shelter tomorrow. I know she'll get adopted, so I don't feel bad about it.


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