Bear bait did not have her x rays this morning. I was supposed to bring her in fasting because they needed to knock her out to get her to stay still enough for x rays and Josh got up early, went down stairs and despite the fact that her food and water bowl were sitting on the kitchen counter and not the floor fed her and gave her water.
I had a fit.
I feel like I walked around all afternoon asking how I was going to manage the morning without feeding her, but then I realized that I had been worrying all afternoon in my own head and that noone had any clue I've been worried sick for the past 3 weeks. The kids don't even know I have fondness or connection at all for the dog.
When bear bait begs and whines in the evening I tend to threaten her life, which is okay to do according to me since she doesn't speak english and has no idea I'm not telling her how beautiful she is. Also my pet name for her is "Fatty fat", from that period in her life when the hsband was giving her 4 or 5 greenies a day and she turned into a round ball of black fur before I figured out someone else was feeding her beside me, so the boys have this idea that I hate her, and they have no idea that I am completely dedicated to the freaking dog and actually do look forward every day to wandering around the fields with her. Also, they have no idea that for three weeks I've been freaking out over this limp that will not go away. I just don't want bear bait to suffer.
SO, the kids don't have any clue how I feel about the dog, or have any idea that I sit around wanting more, or that I long for some kind f idenitty that has absolutely nothing to do with taking care of anyone besides me. I'm about to be 47 and I have to yet to seriously emotionally or physically take care of myself.
Which brings me to my (hello captainobvious!) brilliant conclusion of the day, which is I Need To Get A Life outside of and which has nothing to do with being an unappreciated cook and chauffer a mother. Which is probably why I am still stinging so much over Y@le. Y@le was going to be my train ride out of domestic hell. The way I feel right now I'd beg the editor to let me work for my old budgetless newspaper for free just to be in a place where I was working again. But I'm pretty sure the stepford paper does not need photos of new town. I could go all local newspaper here and start over, but the newspaper is not where I want to end up ultimately, so instead I am goign to search out contests, attend the local camera club meeting next Monday and sign up for a photo class at the local art center, even though I suspect that none of the classes are for advanced level photographers. Long term, I wil reapply to Y@le next fall, along with Columbia and The School of Visual Arts. Maybe I'll apply to a couple that are closer to new town but not on the list just in case. Or maybe I'll only apply to the best ones and if no one wants me next year, I'll apply to a broader range of schools the third time around. I wish Rhode Island was closer because I'd love to apply to RISD.
Okay, step one: decide on which series are worth developing and which to ditch and which direction to go.
Oh, and get this. The sentry told me yesterday that she has a friend who graduated Y@le's MFA program in photography. I'm going to pick that woman's brain too.