At least my life amuses me

I'm not in a good place lately. By "not in a good place" I mean my anxiety and depression leave me feeling, to steal a simile from a friend, like old gum stuck to hot asphalt. But there are compensations; the powers that be seem to recognize that I just can't go an entire 24-hour period without something happening to amuse me. For example, here is the conversation I had with my charge nurse this morning (after a, uh, major cluster).

Me: I've given this deep thought, and I'm not fucking coming back tonight. Her [without pause of any kind, and deadpan]: OK. Be thinking of what we'll tell the officers when I am stuffing you in my truck at 6:30, then. Me: So I guess I'll come in then. Her: Guess so.

I think that ER workplace communications are some of the most fulfilling parts of my life. You just…can't have interactions like them anywhere else.

And then there is this puppy. I HEART her. She is a horrible destructive pain in my ass, yet she is so good-natured about it I can't really work up any real irritation with her. She has chewed the edge off the bookshelf in my utility room where she stays when I'm gone, and the sheetrock alongside the edge of her dog door is gnawed pretty well also. She eats everything except her dolly, which she carries lovingly around and sleeps with. She sits on the bathmat while I'm in the shower so I can't ever stand on it, and she requires frequent Furmination because her hair is HORRIBLE. Leash training her? The neighbors are probably on the ground laughing. She jumps around and tries to eat the leash or just lies down and looks at me with a clear "fuck you" expression. But she's doing well and her leg is healing great. I just miss my old dog so much…but that's back into the "gum on hot asphalt" mood.