Here I sit in my sad little home. David has thrown himself into bed, I think for the night. Misty is in the hall. Charlie’s MIA — probably under a tablecloth somewhere. It’s too quiet.
At about 6:00, I received a call from a UoP Vet Hospital social worker. Seems we were a bit upset last night (duh!) and the business office was concerned. I had a lovely 10 minute telephone call/counseling session with a very kind woman. She’s sending me a packet and has invited me to a pet bereavement class. She also told me to get David and go and do something tonight. I was very touched that they thought they had to contact me. Now I can finally say I’ve spoken to a social worker. (rolls eyes)
After my counselling session, I made the world’s worst Spanish omlet. Eggs, tostitos salsa, cheddar cheese. It sucked. Really bad. So bad that I baked a Duncan Hines chocolate cake to make myself feel better. (Note to self: this kind of behavior is how you got to be 178 lbs)
I cannot sit here all night. I’ll go nuts.