It was fine until I woke up from my nap. See, until after the nap, it was turning into one of those really good days. Like, a fantastic day. I'd taken Rumble along to have lunch with Ash and he was a complete angel. We went to Sonics and sat outside and he didn't bother anyone. He was curious of the people on skates, but didn't lurch at them or anything. He just curled under the table and relaxed. Wonderful. And then I let some coworkers from Publix meet him. Again an angel.

I got home, and was just exhausted, so I curled up on the couch with Rumble beside me on the floor and Filo curled up against my legs, and we napped. I woke up and was munchy, so I cooked up some Ramen.

Well... in the midst of slurping up some suddenly I pour the hot water in the bowl down my top, and burn myself, pretty badly. I've got an icky looking blister now .__. at the time it was cool, til I read online and saw all the stuff about going to the emergency room and permanent scarring and skin grafts, and I just panicked and called up my mother. She hurried home from where she was at (not too far, but still, I haven't seen her walk in the house so fast before) and I'm sitting at the table crying and holding a wet rag to my breast. She sprays some stuff on it, tries cheering me up, and then feeds me the offending ramen, and lets me cry it all off.

Well.. it should've stopped there. But it didn't...

Dad came home and he's gotta get some xrays or whatever done tomorrow, because he's been having bad pain in his side, and the doc thinks its his galbladder, so he can't have food with any fat in it. Oi. So he just has some white rice and green beans, and mom has spam and cheese, and I ordered out pizza because I wanted comfort food damnit. Well... the pizza guy arrives and as I'm getting out of the chair somehow I slip and fall to the ground with the chair falling on top of me and badly scraping the back of my ankle. Fffffuck. >.<

It should've stopped there. It didn't.

So at one point in the night Rumble's really got some major excess energy, so I take him for one of his bike rides he does so well on and loves so much. As we're riding he randomly starts swerving on me, which he's never done before, and goes around behind me. The leash gets caught in the bike chain and I hit the breaks, just in time for him to be basically pressed against the back tire. I manage to get him out and fuss at him a bit, and we start again, but further down the road he suddenly swerves in front of the bike and slows down. I hit the brakes again, just in time to run over his back leg >.< He doesn't make a sound, nothing, but he's limping and holding up his leg.

I check him out and I'm touching the leg, encouraging it to bend, feeling for anything out of the ordinary, and he just lets me, no sounds, nothing, but he won't move. So I try to put him in the basket of the bite. I'll ride him home. No go. The weight one hold him and the bike falls with one of his legs stuck in a bar. I can't call mom and dad, I left my cell phone at home.

So I sit there and take some deep breaths as I pet him, love on him, and then I try and encourage him to walk. Well, he's walking again, and then he's running, so I get back on the bike since he REALLY wants to run and I can't run and hold the bike at the same time. The rest of the way home goes much better.

*Sigh*

Long, bad day.

I close the store tomorrow, I'm not sure how I feel. If this unlucky streak keeps up, Christ I don't know u.u;

People who know I have a b.a. in psych seem to think suddenly I'm a therapist.

I'm not.

In fact, I actively avoid diagnosing or even trying to apply psychology to people around me in my everyday life. I made that mistake when I was a freshman in college. I felt so smart. I wanted to diagnose everyone. And then come my junior year of college I'd realized what an ASS I was being, and stopped. I think all psych majors go through it.

But until I'm actually licensed, and until a person approaches me seeking guidance and help, I don't want to diagnose, and I don't really want to hear any personal problems.

But when people know I have this degree, that's what I get. Last night when I closed the one chick that never shuts up suddenly went into great detail about an abortion she'd had years ago. I've never known this side of her, part of me is honored that she trusts me enough to tell me, because while she does talk all the time, as far as I know only I and another woman might know, and she views the other woman as a mother-figure. So it's touching, but not something I ever really wanted to hear. While she may trust me, I'm JUST a coworker.

And then today in the middle of working on a wedding cake, one decorator who very recently lost her mother starts discussing unresolved issues she had with her, saying: "I think the reason I don't cry as much as I could is because I'm so mad at her," and starts covering why. And I'm standing there awkwardly as she starts tearing up. And I tell her: "Maybe you should look into a therapist, someone professional who you could talk to about this, who could help you with these unresolved issues."

"No, no. I'll just talk to you miss psychology girl."

Sigh...

What I hate most is that these people obviously have inner turmoils they haven't resolved, not if it's still bothering them the way it is. And while it touches me that they do trust me enough to tell me, I wish they wouldn't. I wish they'd seek the help of someone that can actually HELP them and provide advice on how to deal with these issues. Not just me, who can only provide an uncomfortable listening ear and a strained shoulder to cry on.

I'm a picky person with very high standards, and with that comes some troubles: it's hard to find a boyfriend, work can sometimes be a pain in the ass, I'm very rarely satisfied with things I do (be it art or a school assignment), and it makes finding books to read very difficult.

There's a lot I generally want out of a novel. My father's a trooper. He'll read a book to the end, no matter how much he dislikes it. Sometimes he can get a book done in a few days, other times it might take him a few months because he enjoy it so little, but refuses to stop. Me, I realize I've gone at least two to five pages feeling bored or scoffing at how unrealistic it seems, and I put it down, for good.

So I haven't actually sat down and READ a book in years, in fact, not since the last Harry Potter book came out. And I've greatly missed being a reader. I miss staying up long hours into the night completely engrossed in a book. I miss getting started on it and then realizing what feels like a few minutes later that three hours have actually passed. I'll try most books, but I won't struggle through them if I'm not enjoying them. Sometimes I only get a few pages in, other times I may hit the middle of the book, but because most have become so disappointing for me, I haven't bought a new on in years. What's more, my desire to read has been minimal. I live in a family full of readers, and I became the one that was almost disgusted and annoyed with the idea.

Until this past vacation. We stopped at the book store, and mom suggested I read "The Exorcist." Eh, why not? So I bought the book, it was only a few bucks, and I read it. And for the first time in YEARS I finished a novel. It was fantastic. It was a relief. The story was easy to get into, it was chilling, it made me uncomfortable in all the right parts, it was wonderful. And suddenly my passion for reading as been renewed. I've bought another two books on amazon I've been eying warily, and I can't wait for them to come in. Christ, how I've missed reading.

In other news, but still on the topic of demons and religion, I'm starting a religious training class at my parents' church, leaning to become Catholic. I know. Le gasp. But I've been going to mass with them off and on since I started college, and I've enjoyed it. There's a lot of things I disagree with on Catholicism, avidly, especially their views on homosexuality. It disgusts me. But mom constantly reminds me there are things she disagrees with it too, but you can't take only the good parts of a religion and forget the bad. And either way, the priest there is awesome. It's the only time I've never drifted off during sermons. I've enjoyed going to church, I've enjoyed the community, the people there, and I figured the least I could do is actually learn about it.

Rumble is doing well himself. Playing and cheerful, though the roundworms are giving him some trouble still. It's hard keeping weight on the poor boy, but he doesn't let it get to him. We've also discovered his passionate love of running, but mommy is not a runner. What mommy HAS discovered is that if she rides a bike, he runs along beside it beautifully. A few times a day now he gets his run, and he's very happy. Next week he'll also start puppy classes, where I'll learn how to teach him basic commands, and it'll be good time for him to get socialized.

Work is meh. They're teaching me how to close tonight, and I'm not thrilled. But with the decision that I want to go to graduate school, and the expenses involved, I have no choice but to suck it up. They've already dropped my hours by one day, due to the fact that we're getting into the slow season now and the bakery can't afford me as much. I feel oddly resigned admittedly. I'd made it clear I did NOT want to be a closer, ever, because I know they'd try to make it my permanent position, but when I saw that I would be learning, I didn't feel all that angry. Just, meh. Whatever.

In the meantime, any good books to suggest?

Oh... btw. Kricket, I think you still have my copy of "The Diary of Ellen Rimbauer" It's been at least five years, give it back =P

Well, it's been a while since I've been 'in the mood.' This is due to many things, but mostly just stress. Stress about my job first, and then stress about dad, stress about bills, stress about the new dog, stress, stress, stress. This morning everything kind of came together beautifully in a wafting exhalation of de-stress.

I was home alone because mom had to go to work, I'd had a hot shower, two cups of coffee, a bagel, was watching a dog training show on tv, and was snuggled up under a blanket with all three dogs asleep around me. Dad was supposed to be home soon and the doctor had given us more info on his heart, like how the blockage is in a small batch of veins and the heart does this fascinating thing where sometimes it'll grow more small veins or more small veins will join together, to keep a blockage in one from disrupted the heart too much. My days at work have been charmingly lacking in anger, due to the fact the girl who talks to much has lost her voice temporarily because of laryngitis and she and I have actually been communicating through basic sign language, and the one guy who complains and martyrs himself ALL the time is on vacation.

What's more, things were just...good this morning. Rumble slept from 12-6 on the floor last night with no accidents and damnit everything was just good.

And with the stress suddenly draining from me by my second cup of coffee, all of a sudden I just felt... in the mood. So I pulled up my favorite dirty comic and had a little fun and came a few times. I think I'll do it again tonight. It was all very lovely.

So dad went in for his third cardiac catheter in 4 months, because the doctor wanted to try and even bigger balloon to get the sting opened up. No good. Doc said that dad will not be getting any better, but on the positive side, the stint should never close 100%, and even if it did, it shouldn't kill dad, it'll just hurt... a lot. *facepalm*

Basically, dad's just going to have to learn how to take it easy. At least he's relinquished mowing the lawn to a guy in the neighborhood. Mom and I said we could do it no problem, I mean, it really doesn't take THAT long and if we do it in the later part of the day when it's cooler it should be fine. What's more, good chance to tan and sweat out toxins some. Dad says no no no no. We already work 40 hours a week, we don't need to had on yard work.

It's not the news I really wanted for him, but it's better than there being an immediate threat of loss.

Rumble still has round worms. I saw them today. Gross...

This teacher that I'd loved for almost 8 years FINALLY broke up with his girlfriend. For 8 years I've been anticipating this day, when I could finally have a chance. And then... we got into that fight and it hit me how poorly things have been going between us and how very little we have in common for our future goals, like children and marriage. I want both, he wants neither. Between him smoking weed, and me finding such behaviors unintelligent and not at all something I really wanna be around. I just decided, no, this is no longer the man for me, and I let him go.

Maybe a few months after I gave up, I got an email of him sending me a video, then I sent a response video, nothing more nothing less. We sent a few more vids and finally he said he was sorry for being such a shitty friend, maybe we could meet up. I agreed and we decided for today. Well then I get the email for today explaining everything to me, that he and his girlfriend for the past few months have basically been fighting and they finally broke up and just this past weekend she came down, got all her stuff and left.

So... I'm torn. I've been waiting so long for this, and after such a big fight and having my feelings hurt, I don't want him anymore, even from a friend I wouldn't have wanted to be treated like that. And now there's a somewhat valid reason. He was going through a break up, of course he wouldn't be the most friendly person. But is that even a good excuse?

I know we're still friends, or we should be maybe. And either way he seems to need a friend right now, because instead of emailing me with 'I really don't think we should hang out for a while' I instead get 'tonight's not the best night, but sometime this week I still really wanna hook up.' Poor timing, since Ash and I leave tomorrow for St. Aug.

I'm just confused. I want to be there for him, as a friend, not really as a romantic interest, but knowing I previously wanted him and her to break up, wanted to be with him, it makes me feel awkward, but not much more. After that fight, I literally can't muster much of anything. I don't feel good, I don't feel bad, I don't feel as much sympathy as I know I should be feeling. I feel...meh.

And it's ironic.

So last night Ash and I decided to go to the local coffee place for breakfast, since she had to work at 9 I knew she'd leave at 8:30, so I told her we could leave around 7:30, which for me is no biggie. I'm usually up at 6 or 7 now anyway because of Rumble. So I got up at 6:30 and played with Rumble for a while, and then at 7 Ash's alarm went off, and she hit the snooze. So I got dressed for the day and brushed teeth, etc. Then I saw she was still asleep, so asked if she still wanted breakfast. Nope. Oi. So my automatic reaction is 'well, I guess I'll just get my computer and wait until she gets up...'

Then I froze halfway in the process of unplugging it and just stopped and continued getting ready and just left. Usually if Ash changes our plans because she doesn't wanna get up, I just occupy myself until later. But fuck that. I'm tired of that. I want my god damn muffin and coffee... So I left at 7:30 and went there and had my muffin and two cups of coffee and I sat and read my new book and relaxed until about 8:30.

I went home and Ash was just and she's all 'oh thank goodness! I was starting to panic! I don't know how to close the garage and etc. etc.' And I told her "Just text me." Duh x.x So we hugged each other and she went to work, and I saw that most of her stuff from last night was still out. Like...the go-box from her sandwich and the container from one of those single-serving chocolate cakes with the fork still in it, her soda can, the wrappings from the cake on the counter.

I'm goanna have to talk to her about her garbage x.x Luve her to death buuuut I'm not a maid service and if I can pick it all up in less than a minute, she can too.

After she left I fed Rumble, then played with him some. He finally caught onto fetch and it made me SO proud, and I realized that inexplicably, he's learned to come not when I say come, but when I do a certain whistle. Turns out every time I did this certain whistle, I was accidentally giving him more love for the return on that than for the simple 'come.' Oh well lol

He's still a bit nippy, but we're working on it. I think it's a simple matter of getting way too excited. But I'm so happy :3 Ash and I took him for a walk last night and he did amazing. Well over a mile, I was so proud of him. Closer to the street we live on he got tired and we had to carry him the rest of the way, but he did so well the rest of it. We took him to the beach park where I live and he got to play in the sand and investigated the water a little, but since mommy wouldn't go in he didn't want to either.

I introduced him to his kong with peanut butter in it, and he luved it.

It's turning into a good weekend ^-^

Wif Rumble. Mom and dad left early for St. Aug, so Ash will be staying over the next few days with me and I'm here alone with Rumble. Already within the first thirty minutes I've caught him chewing the table side. *Facepalm*

I'm hoping this alone time for the two of us is good. I'm terrified of finding out that he doesn't care all that much for me, that he's happy only when/if Filo's around, because then I'm tolerable, but if his best buddy isn't about to play, he couldn't care less about me. I want a good friendship with this dog, but I don't want to force it upon him, and I don't want to be so distant that I'm not a real focus in his life.

Mom keeps telling me to relax. He's a puppy, a baby. I'm a person of high expectations and I don't want those expectations to hurt him. I'll see it happening when I try to train him. I'll get frustrating that he doesn't pick up on things as fast as Filo did, and then I have to remember that he's only 8 and a half weeks old, compared to Filo who was 1 when I started training her.

I'd like this alone time to be a bonding time for us though. We haven't really had any times when it's just him and me. Even if the parents leave, the other two dogs are still around and he'll usually play with Filo.

Oi .__.

Took Rumble on a one-on-one walk today, and was xxxxxx to accept the fact an 8 week old puppy can't walk a mile. It was a sad day xD We got about 3/4's of the way there and he would NOT budge another inch, so I had to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way home. He contented himself to licking my breasts the rest of the way home.

Little perv...