So...how was my weekend? Well, sit down, and I'll tell you all about it.
It was a busy weekend, fortunately. I was glad to have plenty of things going to take my mind off...other things.
Let's back up to early last week. You may remember that my cat Rover was diagnosed with heartworms a while back. Well...he'd been struggling, and struggling, and it had finally gotten to the point where I needed to think about making THE decision. So, early in the week, I called and made him an appointment for Friday afternoon, which I had off. I initially asked for a consult with the vet, with an eye to making the hard call if they concurred with my assessment. By Friday morning, it was clear no consulting was needed. He'd been retaining fluid in his abdomen for a while, and the swelling was just...out of control. He looked like he'd swallowed a soccer ball, poor baby.
Through it all, his appetite had never waned. Boy was HUNGRY, all the time. (Probably in part due to the prednisone he was taking.) And he never lost his appetite for snuggling and purring. Thursday...he stopped purring, but did eat four whole cans of Fancy Feast. (Nothing but the best at that point.) Friday morning...he stopped eating. I knew it was time.
So...he's gone. It was as sad as you would expect. At the last possible minute, though, as the sedative began to kick in, just before THE injection came...he started purring. The vet tech scritched and scratched behind his ears, and I rubbed his belly, and he purred for me one last time. I was so happy...in a devastatingly sorrowful kind of way. But I was hoping for one last purr, and I got it. Then he slipped quietly away. I'm beyond sad, of course...I'm crying now as I'm typing.
I had rehearsal scheduled for Friday night, which I thought would be a good thing. Take my mind off my sadness, and all. Our director had emailed to let us know we would be meeting at her house, as they were (finally) painting the building, and the fumes were pretty bad. Hey, I thought...they're painting. Maybe we're actually on track toward getting the building turned into a theatre! Maybe we can actually schedule this play! Umm...not so much, as it turns out. She plied us with wine, cheese, ice cream...and then broke the news that there are even FURTHER delays, and the rest of this season has been officially cancelled. We'll still do the show, but we'll do it NEXT season. November at the earliest. GAAAAHHHH! (I know, Julie, it's not your fault. It still sucks. Heh.) I think she thought we were all going to turn on her, maybe burn her at the stake, but...we just all accepted the news like the good little theatrical soldiers that we are. What else can you do?
So...I left the meeting, checked my phone, and noticed that Mr. Short Term had called. I had emailed him earlier in the day to see if he wanted to try to get together this weekend. He hadn't left a message, so I called him back. Him: "Didn't you get my message?" Me: "I didn't see a voicemail--did you leave one?" Him: "I emailed you earlier." Me: "Remember how I said I was leaving work and email access early today so you should CALL me?" Him: "Oh, well...I'm in Kansas City." Me: "Oh, okay." Him: "So how was your day?" Me: "Well, I had to put my cat down (which I had also mentioned in my email, which apparently he didn't actually read) and then my play got cancelled, so...not so good." Him: "Oh. Well, I'll be back in town in a few days. I'll call you. Got to go." WTF? Apparently he's not so good with the extending of sympathy. Why are men like that? New Guy never wanted to be around me if I was sad or upset about something. Grr.
Saturday was Cat Lady Lunch today, which was nice. THEY know how to be properly sympathetic about the loss of a perfect kitty. (He was, too...never did anything wrong. Got along with everybody. Perfect. Sniff.)
I made a phone call to my friend who directs the "Fridiron," leaving a message to the effect that I would be available this year after all, if she still needed me.
I ran a few errands (including buying myself several forms of comfort food at Whole Foods) and then decided I was just too drained to haul myself out of the house again for the "Nensa" meeting.
Sunday morning, church.
Finally heard back from the "Fridiron" director--I'm always welcome, of course, though there's a big cast again this year, and she doesn't know how many songs I'll get. Of course. Sigh. Still, it's something to do. I also offered the use of my "flat baby" (who starred in a previous year as Jayden James Federline--hee) as whichever oddly named Palin child we choose, figuring after the recent election cycle, there's bound to be plenty of Sarah Palin parodies being written. Her: "Oh, I was hoping Flat Baby could come back!" Bwah. (For those of you who don't know what a "fridiron" is--and replace the "f" with a "g"; I just don't want it googleable--it's a nonpartisan song and skit-based parody of political events and pop culture, both local and national.)
Sunday afternoon, wine and snacks and gossip (always gossip) with my former employer and co-workers from a long-ago job. (We were all laid off together--it created a bond. Hee.) We sat in the sunroom and rejoiced in the beauty of the lovely spring (again, thank goodness) day.
Sunday evening, watched the Amazing Race, fell asleep on the couch soon after.
So, that was my weekend. Highs and lows. I hope yours shared the highs and avoided the lows.