It's all just like pissing in a fan

I am a bad blogger. I bore myself with the same crap and hesitate to do so to my readership, but heck, I pay for the domain so I might as well put stuff on it. I titled this post thusly because I feel like I'm on a treadmill lately in nearly every area of my life. Nothing actually changes. I did achieve mutually satisfying closure on a humonculous legal issue that has been eating my lunch for a long-ass time, and you'd think that would put me on cloud nine. You'd be wrong. I keep trying to explain it: it's like I've been pushing with all my force against a concrete wall and it finally just fell to the ground with no warning. So I fell on my face. Is it good? Yes! But I have to figure out where to push now. I have personality issues at work and feel that I require a chest-tube tray as a result of the knives in my back. I just fucking love nursing. If anyone finds a way to do it without having to interact with nurses, please let me know. We have had a nearly complete turnover on my shift, and there are some really cool nurses working here now. I'm afraid to befriend any of them, and it's sad. It shouldn't be that way. I have made it a personal project to mentor them, bolster them, and otherwise reinforce them, but befriend them…no. And some I think would be good friends. I just can't do it.

I've become the crazy dog lady. People just piss me off so I find dog companionship to be superior. Which may seem odd considering the two I have. I've had a lot of dogs and never any like these rough-and-tumble hard-headed pit puppies. They are the most obstinate, infuriating dogs I've ever encountered, but I've derived more happiness from working with them than from all my other dogs, who sort of trained themselves. I took them to the leash-free park last week and they LOVED the river. These are two dogs would almost certainly would have been euthanized without adoption, and look at how happy they are.

But they're TERRIBLE! The brindle one chases the cat and has terrorized her. I had a choke collar and leash on her all the time to correct her, but then then fawn one figured out she could seize the leash and pull the brindle one around, so that didn't work. Pretty much every way I try to outsmart them fails. Now the cat has a cat room where dogs can't go. Not an optimal solution.

They're getting better, though. They walk on a leash, one on each side of me, and they sit more often than they'd like when requested to do so. They knock visitors over much less often. They sit politely by their food bowls while I fill them and then eat when they're told they may. They also stopped digging craters in the yard after a Twitter tip that I fill the holes with their own poop. I had zero confidence that this would work, but although they'll chow on it aboveground, they decline to dig it up.

I just have to figure out how to keep the cat happy and safe, and I have horrifying gum surgery tomorrow. I lack sensitivity to -caines and have a phobia of dental procedures. I always end up with something like "well, that's all I can give you, so you'll just have to put up with it." And this is SHAVING OFF THE ROOF OF MY MOUTH and sewing it onto my gums. It can't end well. I feel I should receive massive quantities of narcotics after such treatment, but no. So if anyone needs me, I will be whining and feeling sorry for myself for the next 36 hours. After which I have to go to work. Talking may be optional.