Work is god-awful. The scary-vet is so terrible to work with. The stress makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode sometimes. It’s so bad that when I leave, or when I hit a weekend, I don’t even feel much relief. It’s just like I’m still on the rack and my torturer has paused for breath.

I totally feel bait-and-switched – I met the sweet, gentle vet in the quiet, local clinic, and now I’m slaving away an hour’s drive from home for a scary, scary man. The boss spoke to him about being nice to me, and the pathetic thing is that he TRIES, but he fails. Spectacularly. And that has the added effect of making me totally freeze up and act like a complete idiot, which makes him snap at me even more. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m an incompetent moron and I feel like one, around him.

I am getting lunches now (thanks to a staff member returning from vacation) but even though I have eaten McDonald’s EVERY DAY for lunch, my weight hasn’t gone up at all. It isn’t decreasing, but it isn’t going UP. That’s weird.

That’s stress, I guess?

And the Owl’s nose is running.

And I think he’s teething.