Don't Hate Me Because I'm Bitchy

I have turned into a stark raving lunatic bitch (more so than usual). Case(s) in point? I very nearly took X’s head off Sunday when trying to get him to get dressed for church. At 4 years old, he still gives us that, “I can’t do it…” whine when getting dressed that I, when in my Good Mom mood, try to turn into a game to how fast can we get dressed. Instead, X must have only noticed how my eyes had rolled into my head which may or may not have been spinning. In short, I think I freaked him out a bit.

My SIL’s 18 year old cat died this past weekend. When neither she nor her husband could bear the emotional toll to dispose of said kitty with the vet, my husband was made honorary coroner and had to keep said carcass in the back of his truck overnight. I was pissed because SIL and her husband did not have someone come in over the weekend while they were gone with their precious Golden Lab (a pussy if ever there was one in a dog) to give Dead Cat his thyroid medicine. If anything, the Lab should be taken out, Soprano style, for being no more than a waste of a good fur coat.

I have thrush. Only babies get thrush, you say? Oh no. Adults who use corticosteroids (Adv@ir) also get thrush if they are not diligent in rinsing. For those of you lucky enough not to know what thrush is, it’s a yeast infection of the mouth. Oh yeah, pucker up baby.

Then the icing on the cake is the prednis0ne that I had to start taking on Saturday for the URI. Only for 5 days mind you, but it has finalized the transformation that is the Mr. Hyde in me. I’m not sleeping due to the nervousness and restlessness. The thrush prevents me from getting that bitter pill washed down with the first swallow of water so I’m left with such a taste in my mouth I nearly gag.

So for the next week or so, make sure you lock up your puppies or kitties to ensure I don’t use them for Punt, Pass and Kick practice.