Five Cat-Free Days, and I Hate It

It’s been a long five days.

I dropped Molly off at the vet Friday morning to board her for our weekend away to Connecticut. I planned it a while ago and they knew my intention was to pick her up on Monday morning first thing as we’d be home Sunday and picking her up Sunday wasn’t an option because they were closed. This was the first time I ever boarded her and only did so because she’s on all that medication now and needs to be given it twice a day and even when the vet is closed, someone does come in to do it. Well, I managed to get the check-in lady at the front desk with no compassion, no soul, and frankly, no social skills. So when she asked me when I was picking her up I told her Monday the 21st. She tells me flat out well we’re closed Mondays. Great. I didn’t want her there in the first place but had no other choice, and now she’d have to be there nearly two full days longer because we both work on Tuesdays and the soonest someone could get there is 4 p.m. today when C gets out of work.

It’s one hour away and I can’t wait to break my little peanut head out and have her back at home. I just hope she doesn’t (a) think I abandoned her there and (b) hate me because I was the one who dropped her off and C gets to be the hero picking her up.

And did I mention I spent most of the weekend still not feeling well? Left a message for my doctor this morning but still haven’t heard back. I need to get better soon. This is all starting to get to me. Is this what happens as you near 40?