Honestly, as much as I love them, particularly Newman, I'm not being realistic. I mean, I had no trouble with my asthma prior to their arrival; now, I'm always snorting some foreign substance to clear my lungs. Also, it's rare that I sleep through the night because they're always pouncing on me or else wrecking my apartment. I could just look at it like, well, I took them off the streets, saved their lives and gave them love; now it's time for them to find permanent homes. It's gonna suck. Really suck. As I said before, Newman's practically my own baby. I'm never fostering again -- didn't intend to this time, it just happened.
What if I just kept Newman? But that seems cruel, not letting him have animal companionship, especially that of his siblings, although it's probable that he'll be separated from them anyway. How do solo cats fare? I've never had cats before.
The other night while I was on the phone with Peggy, I got a call from an unfamiliar area code. I didn't pick it up, because I don't believe in that as Peggy was there first, and the caller didn't leave a message. Now I'm wondering who the fuck that was. Was it Eduard? He was mooting the idea of moving out of state to be with his mom. I wouldn't doubt if that's what he did with his brokenhearted self.
I shouldn't make light of a broken heart, because my ex taught me the true meaning of the term. But, why and how did E make himself so vulnerable when we were only together for four months or so. I take no responsibility for that.
After school I went to the Arby's drive through and in the parking lot was a sad-looking, scroungy, three-legged dog. I bought him a roast beef sandwich, and the mingled fear and hope in his eyes made me want to cry. The plight of unwanted animals makes me so very sad.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 5:28 AM
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