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Written at 8:14 p.m. on Wednesday, Apr. 20, 2005

Vacation...Latin word for...a break in work to help relieve stress, but leaves you feeling more stressed out when you go back.

So I had a four day weekend. Felt more like 4 hours. Yesterday Monique came over for our weekly American Idol nite hang out fest. Most of the night my cat was sneezing. I had taken him to the vet about 2-3 months ago for the sneezing...and $200 and a bottle of antibiotics later all I got was "Well, Tracey...his heart and lungs are normal. Give him antibiotics for 10 days and he should be fine".

This morning I decide I'm going to take him in. I go to pick him up and he can only walk two steps without laying down, wailing and rolling over...and repeatedly doing this. I now know its a little more serious than allergies. I get him to the vet (after going to lunch 2 hours after getting to work...on my first day back) and they take him back. They proceed to push on his abdomen and all I see is this bloody urine on the table. Great. So I left him there over night to wait for the urinalysis to come back tomorrow. Which...they charged me $37 for the test...and $7 for collecting the sample. That only consisted of an eyedropper thingie sucking up what was alraedy on the table. I could've done that for free.

I get home tonight already depressed that the cute little face I see so eager to greet me every night was not going to be there. And I get up to my apartment, go inside and realize I have to go back out...for toilet paper. I say "F* it" and decide that I'm not up for pillaging through the grocery store for toilet paper so I decide to go to the little "Easy in - easy out" gas station. I finally get to the counter and the cashier-guy says "I bet you got all the way home, went to use the bathroom and realized you'd need TP for that...and here you are." I just smiled my "Can you shut the fuck up and just put my shit in the bag so I can just go home now" smirk at him.

Then I get home all convinced that I am going to get on the computer and entertain myself until American Idol. I then get online to check my email since I refused to touch my computer on my vacation. There was an email from my friend. A week earlier she sent me an email that her mom was in UCI at our local hospital. Today's email (that came 2 days ago) said she had died. Damn, thats so sad. I was already depressed.

My friend from Colorado called. He's the one contemplating adopting his neice's baby. Thankfully, he decided not to do that. But he's sunk into the drugs a little more. He was doing better and completely caved. Damn...again...three times...stop already. I give in. No more depressing shit. I cant take it.

Tomorrow has got to be easier. DAMN!

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