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I need professional help.

Or to never live alone.

The parental units are on an awesome cruise and are due to come back very soon. And I’m ridiculously happy about that because my routine has been disrupted for this entire week. I literally have not seen anyone besides my coworkers for a week. I think I’m going feral.

Don’t get me wrong, the quiet time has been nice. But between both jobs, looking after the house, taking care of five furry sweet souls, and overseeing a massive growing garden, I’m exhausted. All the little things really add up.

Upsides:

  • I can cook whatever I feel like eating
  • I can play whatever music I want however loud I want
  • Long showers
  • I can leave my purse on the couch (Mom hates that)
  • I can do laundry whenever I want
  • Peace and quiet

Downsides:

  • If I don’t cook, I don’t eat. Even worse, I have nothing to pack for work the next day
  • Music will never have a downside… just saying
  • It’s been so darn cold where I live (compared to the usual 90 degree average), and as a result of this, every time I take a shower longer than 10 minutes, the smoke detector thinks the house is burning down. The sudden temperature change means the unearthly shrieking of the alarm, which sends Flash into hiding and makes my morning frustrating before it’s even started
  • Mom isn’t here to relocate my purse to inside my closet where it lives. As a result, I panic and run about my house trying to locate my keys and ID
  • No off chance someone will throw in a load of laundry for me when I’m working a lot of overtime
  • I’m going stir crazy. The only person talking to me is myself, and I’ve heard that’s a really bad sign

And then the pets. Oh my God the pets. We have three cats and two dogs, all with special needs.

  1. Spook: Our oldest pet, a black Labrador that is about 15. She’s almost completely gray, has hip problems, and needs special meds, soft food, and lots of love. We rescued her from the woods when she was a puppy and we didn’t think she was going to make it. I suspect that we won’t have her for too much longer because of her age and poor health… but she’s pretty sweet to everyone besides my sister. 
  2. Leroy: Our newest pet, a bubbly tan mutt who guards the property. He is a beast. I’ve seen this dog run up to wild animals, shove them in his mouth, and literally throw them through/over the fence. He’s only about 2, so he’s still very much a puppy. He doesn’t walk, he bounces. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
  3. Fuzz: She’s the most paranoid creature I’ve ever seen in my life. We’ve had her for about 14 years and you’d think we just emerged from some crack in the Earth the way she looks at us. For a cat, she’s especially… cold. The family we got her from named her “buttermilk” and had 5 kids under the age of 12. Something must have happened, but she hates us. Me especially.
  4. Roxy: Our rescue cat. We got her about 5 years ago when our mechanic found her huddled underneath a car. She was too small to even be away from her mother and it looked as if she was already half starved. We brought her back home, but she’s never really grown. She’s still the size of a 4 month old kitten and she forgets who were are. It takes her a moment to remember, but by then she’s already bitten us and hissed a good bit. She also is convinced she’s going to starve even though she’s a loved, tubby little furball. Can’t say I blame her.
  5. Finally, Flash. He is the prince. Our only indoor cat, he wormed his way into Daddy’s heart. He is a small little guy, and he was never supposed to be ours. We were supposed to get one of his two sisters, but there was an incident with wild animals and he ended up being the only survivor. His Catness demands everything be his way. His water must be changed twice a day, his litter box cleaned (and made perfectly level) once a day, he must get a small piece of meat whenever we cook (unless it’s beef… he doesn’t like beef), his claws have to be filed, he has to be brushed and flea combed once every two days… God help you if you forget anything. He will break things you love. Asshole ate one of my shoes and rolled around all over my uniforms coating them with fur (after he opened the door to my closet and pulled them down off the hangers).

My week has been spent in servitude. Here is a regular example:

Leroy trots out to the gate every morning and gets the paper, but in exchange he demands a treat. It is impossible to circumvent giving him a treat no matter how late you are running because he drags the paper into his dog house and lays on it. No cookie by 11AM means the paper becomes doggy floss. Paper becomes doggy floss = a huge mess + angry Dad. To properly atone for your lack of cookie giving, you must pay two cookies the next day to prevent the paper massacre. If you only pay one cookie, the paper for the next day will be shredded and scattered all about the lawn. So sayeth Lord Leroy.

Fuzz will only eat if you ignore her existence and avoid stepping within 5 feet of her. If you get too close, she’ll act like you are going to sacrifice her to Bast.

Roxy will try to eat both bowls at the same time, so you must dump the food quickly while ignoring and avoiding Fuzz or else tub-ball will do the “eat like snake” commercial on both dishes.

Spook is just happy she can dig craters to China because I can’t coax her into her pen at night and I’m not going to stand out there for 5 hours attempting to get her to behave.

I forgot to clean the litter box yesterday, so I woke up to cat litter everywhere this morning. It was seriously across the house. Flash also spat his kibble all throughout the kitchen, splashed his water, and howled until I woke up to open the window so he could see the birds outside.

Not me Katie! I'm so sweet and you loooove me. I don't terrorize you! I just inform you how things should be done.

Not me Katie! I’m so sweet and you loooove me. I don’t terrorize you! I just inform you how things should be done.

I am pet whipped. I have no free will. My entire week has been spent being a slave to one of my bosses or as a slave to my pets. Not to mention all the stupid miscellaneous crap that comes along with having a house and a car. I want food that I wasn’t forced to cook. I want to have a conversation with someone who isn’t a patient, coworker, furry overlord, or myself.

Final verdict:  If I move out, I need to start small and with one pet. If I don’t go feral first.

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