Empty promises

God it feels like this week has taken ten years off my life.

I don't know why I sometimes feel like I'm so run down. It's not like this week has been much different from any others, and yet, yesterday I was in bed before 8 pm. Tonight I'm only up due to circumstances beyond my control.

There's no need to make this a bitch-fest about mundane things like laundry and floors. I do enough of that already. But shit's gotta get done sometime, and unless I want to waste Sunday, my only true day off, doing housework, I have to double-duty during the week. Not to mention that I'm having my bathroom re-done tomorrow. That is, if the dude ever shows up.

I can't believe how hard it is to get someone to do something. I mean, if you'd been out of work for months, were living a mooch life on someone else's couch for free, and someone offered you a fair price for about 4 hours worth of work, wouldn't you hop right to it? Or at least call the person to arrange a convenient time? I'm going on week two of waiting now, and frankly, I don't think drywall is so difficult that I can't do it myself. I mean, it's just cut, nail, patch, tape. Right? I can do all of those things. If he's not here this weekend, I'm going to have to.

My washing machine sounds like two cats mating. No idea what's wrong with it, but it can't be good. I'm just waiting for it to croak. At least that's something I won't have to wait very long for, eh? No use worrying about it. It'll break, we'll have to get a new one. Sure, I'm cheap enough that if the dryer broke, I'd probably just hang a clothes line in the yard, but I hardly think I'll be bustin' out the old washboard any time soon. And I'm not dragging my 500 lbs of clothes across town to my parents or to the wash-n-fold either.

And now to the real meat of this post...


Today I did something I really feel shitty about. Don't get me wrong, I'm confident that it was the right thing, it's just, well, I lied.

You see, my first mistake was to get personally invested in a client. She's a sweet little old lady. She lives in an assisted living facility downtown and she has a little dog, Misty. Misty is a sweet, slightly nervous Schnauzer. Not my favorite breed, but she's not a bad dog. Anyway, Misty has to be on a special diet due to a medical condition, and since her owner doesn't have any means of transportation, I, feeling a bit sweeter than normal, offered to deliver her food to her one afternoon. Ever since then, she and I have sort of formed a bond. It's not that I feel put-out by doing this. I mean, heck, it's not even that much out of my way. And Jonas doesn't mind going to visit occasionally, either.

Anyway, Misty has been boarding with us a lot over the past month. Her owner had a nasty fall and hasn't been able to take care of her much. So Misty stays at the clinic during the week, and on Saturdays one of us takes her home to be with Mom for a couple of nights, and then we pick her back up Monday morning because by then her owner is too worn out.

Misty is her life, and she'd do anything in the world to make sure that that dog was taken care of. But boarding a dog long-term is expensive. Hundreds of dollars expensive, and when you're living on fixed income and your pet already requires expensive prescription food, it's hard.

So her owner called me today and asked that, if something were to happen to her, or if financially she couldn't keep her anymore, I'd promise to take care of her.

Jesus, what do you tell an old lady who's trusting you to take care of her only "family"? It's not like I could tell her "Nope lady, don't want your dog." I mean, just the desperation she must be feeling to consider giving Misty up... good lord.

Of course, I can't afford to take care of Misty, either. And I doubt that she'd even get along with the critters I already own. And I'm skeptical about little yippie dogs around my son, especially yippie little dogs that are used to a an old lady's lifestyle. I mean, it's a far cry from a warm lap and Golden Girls re-runs at my house.

But of course, I told her the only thing I could tell her. "Yes, of course I will." At least I prefaced that with a "Let's not talk about that right now. Let's focus on getting you well so we can get her home to you." But she insisted that she needed the reassurance, just in case.

And now that I've made that promise... now that I've told that lie... how can I live with myself if I don't follow-through? And how can I possibly follow-through when I can't afford the critters I take care of already?

Ugh. Lying sucks, even if it's for a good cause.