Last week just decided to be a butt head, every day was a new surprise and not the good kind. (I usually don't like to talk about work, but work had so much do to with the crappy (literally) week)
Monday: We were down a person in our department, but it wasn't too much of an impact until someone else decided to quit out of the blue the Friday before. Just two people to do 4 people's work, nice. We managed though since Mondays are pretty slow for us.
After work we went to see The Vow. I wanted to bawl my eyes out from cuteness and the movie really could have been emotional gold, but it was a real disappointment. I left the theater being mad.
When we got home is when the real fun began, it was 10:30 at night when we walked into the door and we were hit by the most unpleasant smell. Winston had barfed up all of his dinner in his crate. His crate is big and bulky and very not easy to clean. After carefully ushering him outside we set to work and finally crawled into bed at 11:30.
Tuesday: Work sucked. I was by myself for 3 hours on the busiest day of the week. I was backed up to my eye balls in stuff that had to be done NOW. Luckily someone took pity on me and helped, but really that just created more work that would need to be done after all the NOW stuff was done.
I'm so glad that my new schedule means I don't have to stay until all the work is done, but my poor co-worker does. I stayed 45 minutes past my shift but she had to stay an hour and a half.
I was mentally exhausted after that so there was no special valentines dinner made.
Wednesday: My car decided that we hadn't spent enough money on it this month and broke down, luckily in my driveway. After letting it cool down we thought that maybe it was just that the coolant was empty.
I tried to ignore my stupid car and met up with my dear friends, Derek & Jonessa, at Applebee's for some free Bingo.
Afterwards we stopped by Wal-mart for some coolant and poured it into my car.
When we got home Winston had a bad case of diarrhea, after another man vs. crate struggle we got to bed at midnight. I was trying to pretend like Winston wasn't sick because I didn't want a vet bill on top of trying to fix my car.
Thursday: John decided that he would take my car to work since he works a whole 3 minutes away from home and I'd take his truck just in case my car decided to act up. While at my nail appointment, John called me saying that he didn't make it to far after work, the car died. I called my dad (who probably thinks that I only call when my car is broken, sorry Dad, we're both not real phone chatters) and explained the problem. Because he's a mechanical genius he knew what was wrong without even seeing it and said he'd come help John tow the stupid thing home.
Luckily my sister bought a new car and still had her old one at home so I borrowed it while my car under went surgery, this meant that I didn't have to get up at 4 AM to drive John to work and still had a way to run Saturday errands while John was at work.
Makoa had diarrhea during the night, all over my freshly, professionally cleaned carpet. Again I ignored the fact that he might be sick because the vet was not going to happen.
Friday: A half hour after getting to work I was struck ill, even though I tried to put on a happy face I was not going to make it. I called my boss and apologised my heart out. I was leaving her down to one person in my department on the second busiest day of the week.
When I got home, I crawled into bed and stayed there the rest of the day.
In the evening John was going to meet me at the accountant so I mustered up all my strength to go sign taxes. If I would have known that it was bad news then I would have stayed in bed and put it off for a few more days, but I was expecting a tax return.
The accountant told me the bad news first while we waited for John. My heart sank. John's company screwed up his W4 meaning that all last year not enough taxes were getting taken out, they're not at fault though, how nice is that? This means that the fish tank isn't going to be done next month, all the money now has to go to the IRS, so the tank wont be done for a few months. I'm not a happy camper.
Saturday: Friday night I decided that Enna and Makoa could sleep in the bedroom because Makoa wasn't showing any signs of sickness. That was a bad idea because Saturday morning at 4 AM I was cleaning up massive amounts of diarrhea, I'm not sure how we can sleep through him trying to wake us up, but we do.
I really thought that it was time to call the vet, two nights in a row usually means that they're sick.
I still didn't call the vet though, I decided to wait it out over the weekend. None of the dogs showed any more signs of being sick and I made them all sleep in their crates over the weekend.
I spent most of Saturday and Sunday cleaning since it has been way too long since my house was deep cleaned. John and my father worked on my car and it's now in working order.
And I thought that was it, I thought that the crappy week was over, but it seems to have carried on into this week. Monday night was Enna's turn to get sick, she whined at the side of John's bed around 1:30, but before he could get up to let her out she let loose. So it was back into the crates for everyone again and I still haven't let them sleep in our room yet. I just keep chanting, "no vet, no vet, no vet!"
Everyone seems to be on the mend now though.
So I'm having a little pity party for myself and anyone is invited, just note that there won't be any dessert served.
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