Yeah, it’s no good for me, but I’m going to be up all night. As I said in my last post, Hub is in Florida helping his family after their auto accident…and I’m home alone. Good news is, day one is over, and I survived dealing with Cray-cray lab all day while my parents were out of town. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it, because we’ve not really had her here with us since Butthead arrived. The good news is they get along outside, but mostly play (rough) when they are out there. I didn’t want to have to deal with separating them if they got too rough out there, so I wasn’t sure how I would be able to handle them in the house. We brought Cray-cray lab over yesterday while Hub was home to see how it went in the house. I felt reasonably comfortable that I could contain them in the house and figured that I would let them outside separately so as not to have to deal with the play-fighting out there. So I retrieved Cray-cray lab this morning after I got up and brought her here. Unfortunately, she’s kind of a pest–almost as bad as Butthead–so I ended up letting them go outside and play to get some of their energy out. Cray-cray lab is pretty responsive when you call her into the house, so when I needed to break them up, I called her inside and Butthead followed. I took Cray-cray lab home at dinner time so my brother could take over her care until my parents got home late this evening.
I made my way through the rest of the evening alone with Le Moo and Butthead. Took them out about 8:30 (mostly dark outside) and freaked out because I saw a bat flying around outside. I hate bats. I know they are good to keep bugs away and stuff, but I hate bats. They freak me out. I tried to rush the dogs so they would come inside, but of course Butthead had to poop and she takes forever. I finally got them in the house, but had to take them out again two hours later before sending them off to bed. Butthead is in her crate, Le Moo is hanging out somewhere upstairs. I wish she would be in my bedroom here with me–Sweet Pea would have been–but I can’t lock her in here. She’d be miserable and I’d feel horrible. It’s not like I’m going to sleep anyway. There’s no way I’ll be able to feel safe alone, so I’ll be up all night. I have a bag full of library books on the floor and the laptop will stay on all night. I might write some more blog posts tonight (maybe finish the two I’ve had started for days/weeks) or I might play some games. Or I might sit up all night and read and watch television and try to distract myself. I might cry. I’ll definitely have the phone on one side and the heavy-duty mag light on the other (in case I freak out and want to pretend to defend myself with something). When I moved out of my parents’ house and into my first home alone, my dad gave me a wood baseball bat to put by my bed (which I kept with me even after pre-hub Hub moved in and even after we got married). My dad hoped I’d never have to use it, but he said it was light enough for me to grab up and swing easily and yet strong enough to knock someone out with a good swing. And there’s no aiming and/or worrying that someone else might come in and find a firearm and try to use it against you. And if you swing a bat at someone when you’re scared and it turns out to be friend and not foe, you’re not likely to kill them. Thanks, Dad.
Either way, not planning to sleep. If I fall asleep from exhaustion, that’s a whole different kettle of fish. The TV will be on, the laptop will be on, the light will be on. It will be a huge shocker if I fall asleep. But I guess stranger things have happened. Meanwhile, I expect to be awake. I’ll take the dogs out early and feed them, then maybe try to catch a few winks before PT (or not), and then I’ll try to nap after I get home from PT…maybe. In the middle of the day, when I feel safer being alone.
And of course when I’m alone is when some noise happens downstairs that sounds like crashing or breaking glass. After I’m upstairs in bed. And the house is dark. And the dogs are abed. Had to go through the house twice and was heading for the garage when I realized the root beer bottle I’d set on a paper towel (to avoid leaving a ring on our granite countertop in the kitchen) fell over. Fuck. Scared the hell out of me. Felt new gray hairs growing as I was putting the bottle away (recycle bin is at the curb so I left it out to put in tomorrow). This never happens when Hub is home. WTF.