How does one Motivate on the day after Christmas?

The Stairway Sign

Everyday, I come into work, entering through the side door, and look at the sign that says "stairway". And everyday I am disgusted. Why? Oh, maybe because there are BOOGERS in between the raised letters. Green, crusty, nasty boogers. Who does that?! I mean, I hardly think it's a child - the sign is kind of high up, around chin level (ok, I know, not that high when you're 5 feet tall, but still). I work in an office building with ADULTS. A grown person decided to wipe his nose garbage on the sign for all to see.

And the other thing is - we have a cleaning crew in this building. So, yeah, wouldn't you think they'd clean that shit up? No, No. I have been here 4 months now and those boogs have been there the whole time. I suppose I could complain to our office manager who could complain to the cleaning company. But still, after 4 months (or more, mind you, this snot could be years old), one would think it would get cleaned up.

Enough Already

Poor Rusty, he is falling apart. Part of it is our fault for not doing another month-long round of weekly mitaban dipping this past summer, because his demodex is back with a vengeance - apparently exacerbated by the Prednisone the other vet gave last month for the rear paw licking-till-it-was-raw thing he kept doing (that was a long, probably grammatically incorrect sentence). On top of the demodectic mange that came back, he some how managed to break 3 of the 5 metacarpals (doggie fingers) in his left front paw. But with the mange, the doc didn't want to splint it since we have to do the wash and dip every week. With one "finger" intact it is sort-of splinted - an anatomical splint. I am just trying to have positive thoughts that he won't break the other metacarpal because then he wouldn't be able to use it at all, and his right back leg has never been good, he can't put much weight on it. At the moment, L has to carry all 55 pounds of him up and down the stairs in the mornings and evenings so he can sleep upstairs in his crate with us. I am debating moving the crate downstairs, but he's got some separation anxiety where he gets upset if he has to sleep alone.

So, more doggie drama. I suppose I should not be surprised. He is older than dirt (thus why some friends have coined him "old dirt"). He will probably continue to have some issue every couple months until he is shuffles off his mortal coil. As long as he is happy and isn't too uncomfortable, I can deal with his geriatric care. The one bonus is that he can't get into any trouble for a while - not more knocking over the trash and stealing food from the counters.

In addition to my dog falling apart, my father was in the emergency room for an eternity this past weekend. As expected, out in the boonies of Riverside County, the hospitals are a little over-capacity (the booming population growth far out-paced infrastructure like roads. schools, and hospitals).

For what should have taken maybe 6-8 hours (including the norm of hours spent in waiting), instead it took 14 hours (my emergency room visit for appendicitis took 7 hours - less than 12 hours after I arrived in, I was in surgery). Fourteen hours for a mild case of diverticulitis. And apparently, also, a UTI (which is interesting, I suppose if your immune system is depressed, perhaps UTIs are easier to get). So, yesterday was interesting. He did his best to cut down on beer consumption, but when you normally drink around 8 beers a day, that's a bit of a challenge. He ended up drinking one beer and some wine at the Christmas meal which is like 80% less than normal.

And I tried not to be too cultish/preachy about the veggie-ness, but I did told him several times he need to eat more fiber - more fruit and vegetables. Diverticulitis is rare in countries where people have high-fiber diets (it's kind of common in the US). My parents say they eat some kind of vegetable every night, but I am thinking it might amount to 2 (maybe 3) servings of fruits and vegetables a day. Not enough, especially as you get older. 5-10 per day. 5 minimum. I think I make the 5, sometimes more (like today, I will probably eat 7-10 servings), but seeing as I don't eat meat anymore, that's the only way it gets done. If I were eating meat, it would be 5 and it would likely be no more than that.

Anyway, so everyone is falling apart. At least most of them men are, aside from my husband, thankfully. So, I would like to ask the universe to please not make anymore of us sick for now. At least until Rusty's paw is healed. Thank you.

Mystery Solved

Oh, and the unknown gifter of the countdown-from-Hell-key-chain is an old coworker from 2 jobs back. Finally, I know who it was! It was driving me crazy already.


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