Monday, September 08, 2003

It's been a tough weekend. While I enjoyed the football game on Saturday, it was a million times harder as a squad leader. I didn't realize that it would be that much different. I HAD to be perfect. I COULD NOT mess up. I performed a lot more. I yelled out all the routines. I yelled at people to guide. It was just difficult. So, I left the game, utterly exhausted and slept over at Liz and John's place on Saturday night. I seriously could not move my muscles enough to get myself off the couch.

Sunday was also difficult. I manage to scrape myself off the sofa at about 12. Then I come home and find that two of my cokes managed to explode all over my refrigerator. I clean that out, and start to work on homework when my dad calls, wanting to know if I've fixed my PC yet. I call him back after eating dinner and we proceed to spend two hours on the phone, trying to find different methods of fixing my computer without needing to reformat the hard drive. Finally, he just gives up.

And then, just as I'm about to hang up the phone, he says to me, "Oh, and I think I should tell you this. Trixie (my dog) is no longer with us." Evidently she died on Wednesday and THEY DIDN'T BOTHER TO TELL ME. What is this, the THIRD time someone (thing?) has died and they didn't tell me until days later? So, not only am I upset about my dog dying, I'm upset about my parents' refusal to tell me in order to protect my feelings. To be honest, I'd much rather know than find out later. I've been spending all semester preparing myself to hear about Trixie's death. It's not a surprise, even though it's really sad. She was healthy all summer, but during the fall, she doesn't have me to stay home with her and baby her. This dog never did anything. She followed me around and stared at me. Sometimes she sat in my lap for hours at a time. Occasionally she pooped on the floor. Sometimes she liked to wander off after going outside to pee. But for the most part, she was a very sedentary, boring dog. But I still loved her because she was MINE. She was a part of the family for thirteen years. To be honest, I think my parents are having a harder time than I am - they keep imagining that they hear her wandering around the kitchen, looking for food. And my mom STILL gets up at the crack of dawn in order to walk her... and then gets upset when there's no one to walk.

So, anyway, I also didn't finish all of my homework due to that news, a long-ass area wide RA meeting, and the fact I'm on duty. So, I need to work on that some more. Hopefully it'll all get done.