Nothing breaks your daydreaming as fast as reality hitting you right in the butt. I am watching the stray kitties outside, frolicking in the sun, pouncing each other, enjoying the sunny afternoon…And then I think that they are homeless. Three gorgeous babies, and no one to take care of them. No home.
I contacted a shelter and a clinic on Wednesday, to see if any would take them in. The shelter had a 3-month waiting period before they could accept new cats, and the clinic did not. I spoke to someone named Janice, who mentioned she would be interested in one. I gave her my home address, and really hoped that she would come by and keep one. I still see all three.
Nothing also makes you go into daydream-mode, than having yet another screaming session with the asshole I refer to as “ex-husband”. Since it’s Sunday, I should have expected fighting of some sort. This one, at least, was short-lived.
Let’s see…I told him I was going to make breakfast. Instead of just waiting a few minutes while I got everything ready, he started heating water for his coffee, “cooking” some sort of toaster muffins in a buttered pan (I really don’t know…he bought the stuff). By the time I started on the scrambled eggs, he had already had his first breakfast.
I took out the tomato jam from the fridge, which he had placed back after he was done with it, and the jar falls to the floor. I’m holding the top. He didn’t screw it properly. Of course, he yells out that I don’t know what I’m doing, what’s wrong with me…blah blah blah…
Seriously, don’t get me wrong. I’m just as guilty of this as he is. I chose to marry him. I “let” him mistreat me, in the hopes that he would “change”, or fulfill my wishes of having the perfect life. No more!!! And that’s when I start thinking that in a couple of weeks, I will never EVER have to deal with him, at least not on a daily basis. Yay!
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