Tough night

Had a tough night last night.

I missed two days of work this week, due to leg problems. (They're getting better, albeit slowly.) I did go back to work Friday, determined to stay the whole day and earn some money -- two days doesn't put me behind, quite, but it certainly is going to make it harder to catch up on the credit cards. Fridays we usually get the option of leaving early or staying, and I decided to stay.

And wound up leaving a half hour early anyway, when there was nothing but nothing to do. Not even cleaning -- I'd spent most of the day making sure bolts of fabric were in the right place. So I left, feeling vaguely guilty but determined to enjoy the extra time, or at least do something useful with it.

And (foolishly) wound up stopping at the Humane Society on the way home. I didn't come home with a cat, but it was a close thing. Her name is Ebony, she's lovely lithe and black, a bit shy but friendly, licked my fingers thoroughly, and has extra toes on her front paws. And I fell in love.

I can't bring her home; I already have two more cats than I'm allowed to, and, frankly, two more cats than I can afford to. I can't afford to sponsor her so that someone else can adopt her more inexpensively. I can't really even afford to donate canned cat and dog food, which they're in desperate need of. I'm getting suck of hrowing away every request for a donation that comes in the mail -- granted, most of them I wouldn't give to anyway, but I can't and I hate that the decision has been made for me.

I'd think about volunteering at the Humane Society, but I know better. I already have two more cats than etc. and I know myself.

So I came home feeling grumpy and helpless andfairly ill as well, since on top of everything else I have a cold. Sat down in front of the computer for a while before heading over to Tim and Ray's, and wound up sitting there longer than I'd intended. And then got to watch Tim pulling out of the parking lot without so much as a 'I'm going out to X, do you want to come along?'

I got a little grumpy at myself for that. Yes, we're working towards being a triad. Right now? We're not. Tim and Ray are primary partners. I'm secondary in the reationship. Even if we were all primaries, I can't expect the two of them to spend every moment with me, any more than either of them would expect the same.

And besides which, I hadn't entirely decided if I wanted company at all. But the decision had been taken out of my hands and I'm sick of that.

Well, I thouht about it a bit and realized that Tim had gone to pick Ray up from work. Which is fine, no need for me to come along (though he's invited me along on errands often enough). I'd just head over once they got home.

Half an hour passed, then an hour. No sign of them. I finally called Ray's cell phone, only to discover they'd gone out to dinner. Without me.

And you know? I can't be upset at them for that. I wasn't upset at them, really, I just felt horribly left out, and alone, and then really grumpy at myself for being upset, and ... and and and.

Part of the problem, I knew, was low blood sugar; it'd been a while since lunch (and they were out eating, weren't they and...I stopped myself there, but it wasn't easy.) I moped around the kitchen for a while, discovered that since we nearly always eat at Tim and Ray's that I have really nothing around to cook (and isn't that another grumpitude, that he won't come over to my place, I have to go to him...), and decided that to heck with it, I was gonna have popcorn for dinner, and nutrition could wait until tomorrow.

I was out of popcorn.

I coul cry, or I could go shopping. So I went shopping and cried, at least a little. On the way I stopped at Hobby Lobby to look for plant stands -- did I mention I hate not having disposable income? And this is me, who cheers myself up by buying things. Not expensive things; just small ones.

Can't even afford that.

Went to Target, wiping my eyes. On the way conceived of a plan to make a plant stand -- there are those 2x4s someone put next to the dumpster, aren't there? That cheered me a little, enough that I managed to plan a healthier dinner than I might have while in Target, enough that I managed to avoid buying potato chips to cheer myself up.

So, thus fortified, I head home. I plan to leave Tim and Ray alone for the evening -- I feel that I've been over there too much, surely they need some time alone, and anyway I'm awfully hungry and dinner will take a while. Perhaps I can check on those 2x4s while the water is boiling. Instead I leave the groceries in the car and walk right up to their place, thence to burst into tears and apologize all over poor Tim.

Who to his credit doesn't apologize for going out to dinner (Ray did, later, but that's Ray and he'll apologize for anything you let him) because he hadn't done anything wrong. I apologized to him, actually, and told them both that I'm having a really hard time with things sometimes -- I'm trying to figure out who I am, I'm trying to work out how I fit in wih the two of them, I'm redoing my etire life forchrissakes -- and got hugs and support. I do love them, and it helps so, so much.

And headed back home. I needed to eat, and I knew if I stayed much longer someone would feed me something and dammit, I'm grown up enough to be able to feed myself and I've been a bother anyway. On the way I checked for the 2x4s -- alas, gone, but I'm sure I can scrounge up something in the way of wood. Started the water for the pasta, poured heavy cream into a saucepan for the sauce. Added onion flakes, basil, oregano, thyme, and, after some hesitation, tarragon. Let the water heat and the proto-sauce simmer and set about getting the place in shape. Empty the dishwasher, refill it with dirties, handwash a few things ... deal with the mail ... clean up a couple magazines from the floor ... feed the rats ... oh hell.

Siegfried's dead. Cold, stiff. Likely while I was at work; certainly Reinhart had been in there with his dead brother for several hours.

I very nearly melted down right there. But I couldn't just leave him. I found a hammer to dig with, took him outside, and buried him in the flower garden. I still need to clean out the cage for Reinhart. I don't know, yet, if I'll be getting him another brother. On the one hand, he'll be lonely...on the other, I really haven't been paying them enough attention, and I don't want to do that to another rat.

On the gripping hand, if I rescue a rat from the Humane Society he'll still have a better life than he would elsewhere. I don't know.

I left the hammer on the porch and washed my hands. Started the water and the sauce again, put in the tortellini. Stirred the sauce and wished I'd had some chicken to put in. Did a little more straightening while things cooked. Eventually, divided tortellini and sauce between a bowl for now and a plastic container for later, and ate. It was very, very good. Though it really needed some chicken, too.

I will start keeping more food around the house. I need to not depend on Tim for meals all the time.

I cheered myself with a bowl of popcorn and a favourite book. It helped...some. But it was a long, awful evening and I came out of it feeling less strong than previously. I don't know.