The Inevitable Road Block

via Daily Prompt: Expectation

Even though I “know” that not every journey is smooth, it’s still kind of disheartening when I reach those inevitable road blocks. You kinda expect (and/or hope) that it’ll be smooth as butter but that’s just not how life works. Of course, in this particular case I’ve been ignoring signs that were saying “road block ahead!” or more like “there will be a road block ahead if you keep ignoring those aches and pains!”

Well, I ignored them and now my knee is in pain. It hurts to walk up and down the stairs and squatting is out of the question. God damn it, self.

Luckily we have a great chiropractor in town and, while the pain hasn’t subsided much yet, I feel a difference in my body and I am looking forward to working with him to restore balance in my body. I can also feel the pain “moving” which can sometimes be a good thing in that I feel that as one area gets better, the pain “moves” to another spot that needs a bit of extra attention and what better way to bring your attention to an area than “ow ow ow ow ow ow”… lol. 🙄

Anyway, seems like I’ll be hobbling on my journey for the next little while…


via Daily Prompt: Scent

the scent of this place
makes me sick
it turns my stomach and leaves behind
memories I can’t forget

the familiar air of the songs
we once sang to
held hands to;
leaves filth in my mouth that
can’t be washed out

I’d give an arm and a leg to be rid
of your scent still stuck in my mind
instead I sit here intact
all places but my heart

– by Naaria

Can you tell I’m in a bad mood? 😆

You know how they say that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory? That it can practically take you back to the moment you smelled it? Well as cool as it is for good memories, it really sucks for bad memories. Reliving moments both in similar experiences plus having the fortune of smelling it too? Yeah, I’m in a bad mood.

Losing My First Dog

via: Daily Prompt: Devastation

This is really hard for me to write about because the wound is still pretty fresh. It’s really long but I sincerely appreciate anyone taking the time to read it.

My whole life I wanted a dog. Finally at 24 I got my first dog, Bossco.


Everyone says they have the best dog but nope, sorry–I had the best dog. 😉

Gods, he made me so happy. He stayed by my side every moment I was home. If I was on the computer he was passed out in bed. If I had to go to the bathroom he’d wait for me at the door. If I was in the kitchen he’d lay at the kitchen entrance. He knew every time I thought to sneak him some food because he’d perk right up just as I turned to hand him some.

He was dog-defensive (he’d get scared and be on guard anytime another dog passed by instead of wanting to attack them) and because of that, taught me how to be a fearless leader for him. I had to learn to be strong so that he could feel comfortable in his day to day. I had to learn how to handle his fear, and teach him that I would protect him, always and forever.

Until I was faced with a cruel reality of life: he was sick and needed surgery and I did not have the financial wellness to take care of him.

See, when I first adopted him, he had a growth on his leg that his previous owner had had removed before I took him in. She and I kept in contact and would visit from time to time. He remembered her every time and loved playing with her, and it was truly wonderful.

Just under than a year later, the lump grew back in the exact same spot and it grew quite quickly. I knew in my gut that there was no way it was “just a lump” now. I spent nearly $700 on tests and biopsies for him, and a month prior I had spent another $500 on an emergency vet visit for Zorro (PSA: 24 hour vets are scams). Needless to say, I had tapped my (meager) savings dry and was facing another $1200 bill for surgery, because the tests determined that the big lump, as well as some of the little ones spotted around his body, were cancerous and needed to go.

It took me months to save up what I had blown through in a matter of weeks, and I was terrified that waiting that long again would be extremely detrimental to his health. I wanted to take care of him. I wanted him to be healthy above all else, and I was terrified (and had plenty of evidence) that I couldn’t provide that care for him.

I will regret this decision for the rest of my life, but I decided to rehome him.

I contacted the previous owner (as per our agreement that she be the first to know, which I understood and respected) and told her what was going on. Her mother graciously took him in and got him the surgery less than a week later. I lost my job a few days after they took him, so I knew… I just knew I made the right choice.

I was so happy–so relieved. In that moment I felt I made the right choice and that no amount of pain I felt would take that away, no matter how much I missed him. After all, he was being taken care of where I severely lacked and could live a long, happy life from then on. The mother also said I could come visit any time. It was a win-win situation and I thanked the Universe for giving me the strength to do what was right.

It grew back again, this time within about eight months. I was reminded that I did the right thing. I must have done the right thing. They removed it again, and again I counted my blessings that he was in a home where they could take care of him.

I was able to visit him once, and had another visit planned for the Summer, which fell through due to emergencies in their family. A couple weeks later, the previous owner called me and told me that her mom and Bossco were at the vet and that he was going to be put down. He had apparently been very sick the last few days and told no one, until it got to the point where euthanizing him became the best and only option. I told her I’d be right over if she could tell me where it was happening.

She told me her mother was refusing to let anyone be there, including her–her own daughter.

I will regret this decision for the rest of my life, but I respected her wishes and instead cried in my room. I was devastated. I am devastated. It still fucking hurts and I imagine it always will.

I should have gone. I should have fucking gone. I should have told her to shove it and stop being selfish, that her daughter and I love Bossco too, that we deserve to be there, we took care of him too, and that he deserves to have people who love him surrounding him when he’s sick and terrified.

Instead all I could do was cry. I was afraid of stirring the pot at an already stressful time. I wanted him to go peacefully. I played out shouting matches in my mind, that if I showed up to the vet to an emotionally charged, very upset woman who asked for privacy, she would just lose it and I didn’t want Bossco to experience that as he was dying.

Fuck. I should have done a lot of things. I should have never let him go. I should have tried harder to raise money. I should have begged on the streets. I should have begged my family. I should have begged any friend who would listen. I should have sold everything I owned. I should have moved back in with my mom. I should have saved up despite the time it might have taken. I should have done so many fucking things that I didn’t do because I was terrified that time wasn’t on my side. And it wasn’t, because he was put down about a year later anyway. That year could have been with me.

I should have done a lot of things and those “should haves” will haunt me forever.

After all, didn’t he trust me to protect him? Didn’t he place his trust and love in me that I would be there for him no matter what? Why did I let the fear of his sickness and death push me to having him leave my life? He got sick and died anyway… it should have been with me. He would have been surrounded by anyone who would make the time during his last moments. He would have been receiving a million pets a minute from a seemingly endless amount of hands, happy as can be, wondering why we were all crying even though he was having the time of his life. Instead I let fear control me when I was supposed to be protecting him from it. Fearless leader my ass.

The picture above was the last time I saw him alive. It is my treasure and my burden that I will gladly hold on to forever.

On Inviting (The Good Inside)

via Daily Prompt: Invitation


The universe provides, and always will.

Part of that “agreement” is remembering to invite what you want into your life. It’s one thing to want someone to come over. It’s one thing to want someone to come in for a tea or coffee. It’s a whole other thing to actively invite that person over, and greet them with a “welcome, come on in!” when they’ve made the effort to see you.

Too many times I’ve laid in bed after a long, sleepless night, desperately wanting this or that, but never asking for it.

Too many times I’ve come face to face with something I’ve asked for, but was too afraid to accept or open the door to.

I feel like a lot of us want that “fairy tale” type of event to happen; where a magical twist of fate suddenly changes everything for us without us lifting a finger… I know I wanted that more than anything because it meant someone would realize just how amazing I was, without me having to prove it or make an effort to show it.

Then, it would (somehow) show up and I was so poorly versed in love or even decency that I wouldn’t even open the door. I’d peek through the blinds or the peephole and judge whether I wanted anything to do with this thing or event or person.

It wasn’t until I really, truly realized that I was actively pushing people away while simultaneously pining for someone–anyone–to notice me and really love me, that I was able to spark a change.

It’s a work in progress, but I’m now making the effort to text or call that which I want in my life, and invite them over for a nice, hot cup of coffee. Oh, and to open the door for them too. 🙂

The Process of Learning

via Daily Prompt: Unseen

As always, the prompt is perfect for what I’m thinking!

So, I’ve been learning guitar lately, very slowly. I practice maybe 15 minutes a day or so which is a great pace for me.

When I sit and practice, I inevitably  get to thinking of all those who have learned guitar before me. How many hours were put into it. How much their fingers must have hurt–and how many of them sucked it up anyway and practiced til they bled.

How almost all of their efforts are unseen.

People–myself included–tend to judge people by how well they can do at a certain point in time; whether it’s on stage at a concert, or for the test with your instructor, or when they serenade their love, or whatever.

If they do poorly, we might think poorly of them or their skills. If they do well, we tend to think that they must be born with this talent. We likely rarely think of all the hours spent alone–frustrated that they can’t get this or that, or elated that they finally did it!

A lot of life is unseen, isn’t it? It’s amazing to me.

Next time I see someone performing their art, I’m going to try to take a deep breath and appreciate all the effort they’ve put into it so far, even if the results aren’t 100%.

Back to Earth

via Daily Prompt: Uneven

Despite my (over-)confidence of 2017 being the best year ever thinking it’ll be perfect and nothing will go wrong, it’s inevitable that I’d eventually get knocked down. What goes up must come down, yes?

It’s easy to ride on the highs of positive emotion and forget that life is–and always will be–uneven. A smooth ride it is not. No sirree. It’s taken a lot of practice and about twice the amount of failing, but I don’t see stumbling as a negative anymore. Of course it sucks in the moment and it sometimes makes me wanna tear out all of my hair, but it’s much easier to appreciate the bad things (like fights with my husband) because we always walk away from it knowing how to love each other a little bit better.

Gotta take the good with the bad, you know? In fact, it’s the bad that makes the good so damn good. It’s the ugly parts of life that really makes you sit and appreciate the beauty of your life. It’s the cold chill of Winter that makes a scalding hot shower feel sooo good.

It’s only within the unevenness of life that I’m able to make progress in my mindset like this, no matter how slight. Now that I’m back to Earth, I fully expect (and eagerly anticipate) the lessons 2017 will bring.

Cat’s Crossing

via Daily Prompt: Crossing

My husband and I are currently in the middle of introducing my cat to his cat. Anyone who’s had the pleasure of introducing cats knows the pain and frustration.

My cat, Zorro (the tuxedo with the grumpy face) is a really sweet little guy. Loves attention but is timid and a bit shy; definitely submissive–the most docile and submissive cat I’ve ever known or heard about… until…

Tumbles (the maine coon), my husband’s cat is a huge pussy (pardon the pun 😆 ). Like, huge. I’ve never seen such a huge scaredy cat! She’s sweet too, but she’s scared of everything that moves which–admittedly–is a bit hilarious.

Well, that’s where the problem lies: I think Zorro knows this and is taking advantage of how “powerful” he’s become! He’s no longer the biggest wuss in the house! He’ll sneak around behind her, or just come right up to her and she’ll hiss–sometimes it results in a high speed cat chase, which results in more quarantine time.

It’s… a work in progress.