My seven year old tarantula, Rosie, died over the weekend. She was looking a little tired the past few months and not eating all of her crickets so I had a feeling she was either going to shed or die. I know it's just a bug, but she was very sweet for a big, hairy spider. We buried her in the planter downstairs from our apartment...said a few words and everything. We're going to miss her.
Well, it was a good weekend. Ron actually got up on Saturday and HELPED ME CLEAN. Yes, he didn't want yet another Sunday to be ruined by my stressing out over cleaning so he decided to start helping me on Saturday mornings so we can get it overwith and enjoy the rest of the weekend. It worked out nicely.
Other than that, I'm just trying to keep my mind out of this turmoil. You're so right, witty, I am still not completely hopeless. I have to try my best to relax, like I keep telling myself. Going to see the therapist on Thursday and he's told me to do the old pros and cons list, which I'm going to start working on tonight.
Oh yea...and work... It's slowed waaayyy down again and I'm afraid we'll be going on part time hours again. I suppose that's okay. I don't care. We'll see what happens. For now I'm just going to continue to do my job and get through the day again. I really hate Mondays.
3 comments:
Just a hug, chica.
I'm sorry to hear about Rosie.
But I'm glad that Ron helped you clean. :)
Things will all work out. Just remember to breathe.
XOXO
Aww, I'm super sorry to hear about Rosie, bug or not he was a pet and yours and it's sad. My thoughts are always with you lady even if I don't say so often enough!!!!!!
Post a Comment