Called the soon to be new landlord yesterday.
The family that is moving out of the suite that I am moving in to have apparently bought a house. The landlord had mentioned that there may be some chance of them leaving the suite before the end of the month.
Ok, makes sense to me. If I bought a new house, I would certainly want to be in it for christmas.
So I had been waiting until yesterday, the 15th to either have heard from her regarding that, or to call her and find out if shed heard anything yet. I would love the opportunity to start moving the odd box over there.
Nope. She hadnt heard anything about them moving out yet. But she was awkwardly silent for a moment.
er. Hows your dog doing? she asks.
Now, normally, I would love to answer this question with a Oh really really good. Had him at the vet last night and the tumor in his mouth doesnt appear to have grown that much, his hips seem pretty spry this week and hes been able to make it up the stairs on his own all week.
But this time, this time was different. I could tell by the sound in her voice that something not great was up.
well, about the same. I had him at the vet again last night. I said.
Shed talked to her son, and he was quite worried about how the owner was going to take the idea of having a dog in the building. Hes strictly adamant about the no pets thing.
You said he doesnt bark?
It was a question.
Well, no. he doesnt really bark. Of course, I only know that because he doesnt bark when Im here. Who KNOWS if he barks when Im not. Maybe hell let one out every now and then, but hes not a barker.
No, I tried to train him to speak when he got to around 3 years old, but we just couldnt get past the original training that got him to never bark.
Shes having serious concerns.
well this is really hard to ask, she says, but you werent sure he was going to be able to make it to the end of the month My son said what if he lives a year?
She went on to suggest that perhaps I should sign some sort of a disclaimer, because the lease is for a year.
So what a totally fucking strange position to be in. In every other circumstance in any other conversation with anybody, I would be totally trying to look on the bright side of things with the Morgster, hes doin good.. hes gonna be fine this cancer seems slow.
But suddenly here I am in a position of trying to explain a skewed perception of his health to a person that has complete control over my near future. I have not actually signed the lease yet, just the application and payed my damage deposit. She, legally, I guess, could pull out at any minute if she was too concerned.
that oh no.. no.. hes gonna be dead soon, I promise. Call the vet if you want, shell back me up.
I have to promise my dog is dying.
oh dont you worry worst case scenario is he makes it through to February.
How fucked is that?
Anyways, he really does seem to be doing pretty good. I know hes got these tumours, and the vet on Wednesday said he could have a tumour on his spleen or liver, and these kinds can suddenly bleed out internally and it could be quite sudden, but other than that he seems to be feeling pretty good. He doesnt know.
That's all I got to say 'bout that.
(and OOOOH! I really wanna run him up on Saturday night if any of you all wanna meet him)
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Work has been great this week, and Anita surprised me with a gift last night that blew my fuckin mind and I am already totally excited for.
For the last oh, 20 years or so my standard morning routine (when I have a standard morning routine) includes Vivaldis Four Seasons. I dunno, its simply the best morning music ever, and I could probably live the rest of my life listening to that starting each of my days.
I dont think she knew that Ive had this link to it, but nonetheless
She picked me up from work last night.
You wanna drive? and hands me the keys.
Course I do. I always wanna drive.
I unlock the doors, squeeze into the drivers side, the seat is too far forward for me, and I have like 15 jackets on that make the size of the Michelin man. I struggle and scrinch and squirm my way in sideways, then reach down between my legs, ease the seat back, and throw my backpack in the back seat.
Oh something dropped she says.
Its dark, I cant see anything. Got both gloves, nope. I dont think so I say.
No, I saw something fall. Shes reaching around feeling in the dark of the floorboards under the drivers side.
I dont think so. Theres nothing there I say. I reach up and turn on the dome light, looking down, I still see nothing.
She continues fumbling around and then she pulls up a little envelope with a red bow tied around it. Looks like a ticketmaster envelope.
Awww. Shed left it propped on the center of the steering wheel, knowing that Id probably say yes to driving.
Tickets to the orchestra: Vivaldis Four Seasons for next Thursday first day of winter.
I am so looking forward to the next 20 days.
The family that is moving out of the suite that I am moving in to have apparently bought a house. The landlord had mentioned that there may be some chance of them leaving the suite before the end of the month.
Ok, makes sense to me. If I bought a new house, I would certainly want to be in it for christmas.
So I had been waiting until yesterday, the 15th to either have heard from her regarding that, or to call her and find out if shed heard anything yet. I would love the opportunity to start moving the odd box over there.
Nope. She hadnt heard anything about them moving out yet. But she was awkwardly silent for a moment.
er. Hows your dog doing? she asks.
Now, normally, I would love to answer this question with a Oh really really good. Had him at the vet last night and the tumor in his mouth doesnt appear to have grown that much, his hips seem pretty spry this week and hes been able to make it up the stairs on his own all week.
But this time, this time was different. I could tell by the sound in her voice that something not great was up.
well, about the same. I had him at the vet again last night. I said.
Shed talked to her son, and he was quite worried about how the owner was going to take the idea of having a dog in the building. Hes strictly adamant about the no pets thing.
You said he doesnt bark?
It was a question.
Well, no. he doesnt really bark. Of course, I only know that because he doesnt bark when Im here. Who KNOWS if he barks when Im not. Maybe hell let one out every now and then, but hes not a barker.
No, I tried to train him to speak when he got to around 3 years old, but we just couldnt get past the original training that got him to never bark.
Shes having serious concerns.
well this is really hard to ask, she says, but you werent sure he was going to be able to make it to the end of the month My son said what if he lives a year?
She went on to suggest that perhaps I should sign some sort of a disclaimer, because the lease is for a year.
So what a totally fucking strange position to be in. In every other circumstance in any other conversation with anybody, I would be totally trying to look on the bright side of things with the Morgster, hes doin good.. hes gonna be fine this cancer seems slow.
But suddenly here I am in a position of trying to explain a skewed perception of his health to a person that has complete control over my near future. I have not actually signed the lease yet, just the application and payed my damage deposit. She, legally, I guess, could pull out at any minute if she was too concerned.
that oh no.. no.. hes gonna be dead soon, I promise. Call the vet if you want, shell back me up.
I have to promise my dog is dying.
oh dont you worry worst case scenario is he makes it through to February.
How fucked is that?
Anyways, he really does seem to be doing pretty good. I know hes got these tumours, and the vet on Wednesday said he could have a tumour on his spleen or liver, and these kinds can suddenly bleed out internally and it could be quite sudden, but other than that he seems to be feeling pretty good. He doesnt know.
That's all I got to say 'bout that.
(and OOOOH! I really wanna run him up on Saturday night if any of you all wanna meet him)
--------
Work has been great this week, and Anita surprised me with a gift last night that blew my fuckin mind and I am already totally excited for.
For the last oh, 20 years or so my standard morning routine (when I have a standard morning routine) includes Vivaldis Four Seasons. I dunno, its simply the best morning music ever, and I could probably live the rest of my life listening to that starting each of my days.
I dont think she knew that Ive had this link to it, but nonetheless
She picked me up from work last night.
You wanna drive? and hands me the keys.
Course I do. I always wanna drive.
I unlock the doors, squeeze into the drivers side, the seat is too far forward for me, and I have like 15 jackets on that make the size of the Michelin man. I struggle and scrinch and squirm my way in sideways, then reach down between my legs, ease the seat back, and throw my backpack in the back seat.
Oh something dropped she says.
Its dark, I cant see anything. Got both gloves, nope. I dont think so I say.
No, I saw something fall. Shes reaching around feeling in the dark of the floorboards under the drivers side.
I dont think so. Theres nothing there I say. I reach up and turn on the dome light, looking down, I still see nothing.
She continues fumbling around and then she pulls up a little envelope with a red bow tied around it. Looks like a ticketmaster envelope.
Awww. Shed left it propped on the center of the steering wheel, knowing that Id probably say yes to driving.
Tickets to the orchestra: Vivaldis Four Seasons for next Thursday first day of winter.
I am so looking forward to the next 20 days.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
I don't even know where to begin about the dog - that just totaaaaly sux man....
and yeah, I'm glad it's not the bedroom, for SURE!