Playing catch-up
Feb. 3rd, 2010 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vanillafluffyI know, I've been out of it for a few days. I mashed my next-to-little toe on my right foot the other day---just kicked something by accident in bare feet. Fucking meow, as George Carlin used to put it. Today it's still swollen, but not hurting---on the other hand, I haven't put shoes on yet, either.
We reunited Poncho with his mama yesterday---she was hesitant, but came around when she realized that he was collared and leashed and perfectly mellow about it. We're not through with them yet, but they've both had breakthroughs. And another new dog tomorrow, a mini poodle yay!
TV is making me happy. I won't go into specifics, because I'm not in the mood to screw around with LJ-cuts, but Heroes made me squee mightily and spawned slash bunnies like, whoa! White Collar sent me into ecstasies---I was hoping to see Neal in tennis whites, but Peter---! OMG, I've always *liked* Tim DeKay, but I've transcended that---I've reached wildly lusting after!---and clearly I'm going to have to go back and revisit Carnivale. Homina, homina, homina.
There's also the matter of TNT's SPN reruns---breakfast with the boys is the most important part of my day---they've gone through them in order and today was In My Time of Dying. Four seasons later, the foreshadowing hurts sometimes, and oh, those seem like such halcyon days, before Hell and the Apocalypse. I also agree with whoever it was on my f'list who recently noted that the boys seem so much more muscular these days. Uh-huh, practically petite. And I think Sam looked better with the old shaggy haircut. (Am I the only one who thinks you could show movies on Jared's forehead?!)
In a little while, I get to get dressed and work a shift of Kat-sitting. There's a reason I never went into nursing, despite a youthful fondness for Sue Barton and Cherry Ames*; I don't have the nurturing instinct, and I feel horribly awkward. Even carrying on a conversation is strained at this point, because although she'll still respond, her answers usually make it clear that she's having a different conversation than you are. The aphasia/dementia has reached the point where her stories ramble without informing---she told me about her last hospital visit, and if GK hadn't already briefed me, I would've have no idea what she meant. In short, they couldn't drain the fluid from her abdomen, so they have her on diuretics with some success so far.
Leverage tonight, woohoo. Something to look forward to....
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* I had to suppress an evil impulse to cough up Cherry Ames: Hospice Nurse for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
yuletide. Too much gritty realism would suck at the holidays; unleashing my issues on some unsuspecting recipient is major cockroach kharma.
.
We reunited Poncho with his mama yesterday---she was hesitant, but came around when she realized that he was collared and leashed and perfectly mellow about it. We're not through with them yet, but they've both had breakthroughs. And another new dog tomorrow, a mini poodle yay!
TV is making me happy. I won't go into specifics, because I'm not in the mood to screw around with LJ-cuts, but Heroes made me squee mightily and spawned slash bunnies like, whoa! White Collar sent me into ecstasies---I was hoping to see Neal in tennis whites, but Peter---! OMG, I've always *liked* Tim DeKay, but I've transcended that---I've reached wildly lusting after!---and clearly I'm going to have to go back and revisit Carnivale. Homina, homina, homina.
There's also the matter of TNT's SPN reruns---breakfast with the boys is the most important part of my day---they've gone through them in order and today was In My Time of Dying. Four seasons later, the foreshadowing hurts sometimes, and oh, those seem like such halcyon days, before Hell and the Apocalypse. I also agree with whoever it was on my f'list who recently noted that the boys seem so much more muscular these days. Uh-huh, practically petite. And I think Sam looked better with the old shaggy haircut. (Am I the only one who thinks you could show movies on Jared's forehead?!)
In a little while, I get to get dressed and work a shift of Kat-sitting. There's a reason I never went into nursing, despite a youthful fondness for Sue Barton and Cherry Ames*; I don't have the nurturing instinct, and I feel horribly awkward. Even carrying on a conversation is strained at this point, because although she'll still respond, her answers usually make it clear that she's having a different conversation than you are. The aphasia/dementia has reached the point where her stories ramble without informing---she told me about her last hospital visit, and if GK hadn't already briefed me, I would've have no idea what she meant. In short, they couldn't drain the fluid from her abdomen, so they have her on diuretics with some success so far.
Leverage tonight, woohoo. Something to look forward to....
=========================================
* I had to suppress an evil impulse to cough up Cherry Ames: Hospice Nurse for
yuletide. Too much gritty realism would suck at the holidays; unleashing my issues on some unsuspecting recipient is major cockroach kharma..