Mamarati

lots of stuff going on as usual. I can barely find the time to think. I’m so friggin’ tired. Basically, though:

• flus and colds at both houses
• MRSA at the ex’s house so J was with me without a break for weeks
• hurt my thumb and couldn’t type for a few days
• stomach ailment requiring multiple poo samples from J
• five or six days ? out of school in the last few weeks for J
• stray orange cat gave birth to three kittens either premature or just way too small and two didn’t make it
• the one that made it cries all night and has a hard time finding a nipple and she doesn’t want to take care of it

I am exhausted and behind in school, behind with where I want to be workwise, haven’t been in the mood for any good lovin’ and I’m just generally worn out and grumpy. Having the kittens and worrying about them making it has been stressful. One of them could just not find the nipple at all and had such a weak suck. I think it must have gotten a chill since the mom cat kept leaving them at first. I was worried that she had another one in there.

She literally gave birth to one on the couch sitting between me and my boyfriend and if I hadn’t looked down and seen it I wouldn’t have even known. That was Thursday night. She didn’t have the other two until Sunday!! The whole time inbetween she was acting crazy and was glued to my side, meowing over and over and over. I felt so bad for her although she didn’t seem to be in pain. She was just doing that “talking” meow or that meow they do when you’re getting canned food ready. I’d say something to her and she’d just meow back again and keep meowing at me.

There are not enough hours in the day for all this stuff sometimes.

I will write more later (famous last words) but right now I’ve got to get the rest of my reading done and post some stuff for a group project. My saving grace is that J’s stepmom isn’t working in an office this week and she’s offered to pick him up every day from school this week, so I’m going to blow it out and get caught up. Yay! I’d feel bad about not seeing him except he’s been over here so much with the MRSA stuff being over there, so I know he misses being over there and misses his sister, especially. No guilt. That’s my new mantra. Or credo. Or mission statement. Whatever.

No guilt. I’m tired of guilt for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Nothing I do is that friggin’ bad.