Always Sunny on a Shit Day

I’ve been awake 24 hours or more, but let me recap.

We were supposed to have a house party yesterday but I had to work so I got there late (yes, to a party at my own house). I stopped first at value village to find something to wear. Alas, I was lucky to find something tight fitting but fitting none the less. I have grown another size. But this is a footnote in the last 24 hours of said shit day. I was depressed. But still excited for the party where a lot of my friends would be. First, I stopped at the bf’s where I learned my baby kitty had been throwing up all day. Bf decides we shouldn’t go downtown later that night as planned since we’re both concerned. But I planned this party, so I’m going to go.

My experience of the party is brief bc N passes me a blunt; I haven’t smoked in over a year because of the second job I took (oddly, today is my one year anniversary) and then I jumped into beer pong (following two overflowing rum-and-cokes) and probably in the 2nd hour, passed out when I went to my room to grab something. Woke up at 9 and rejoined the dwindling group, sang along to some songs while roasting marshmallows when I got the call that my baby’s condition worsened. I left right away, still drunk.

We stayed up all night with him wondering at what point to take him to the vet. I had to leave for work, was 20 minutes late bc Ollie threw up again before I left. 45 minutes into working K calls, panicking and begging me to get covered, come back and help take Olls to the vet. K’s back is fucked up right now, so, guess I had to.

At the point where I reached the vet with a howling kitty in a broken dirty carrier I’d unearthed, Olls had been vomiting water and food for 24 hours and hadn’t used the litter box. I’m exhausted and tearing up when the doctor shows me the estimate. Eight hundred fucking dollars. Five hundred down to get him in, three “at least” to get him back. I’m just, beside myself. $1180 is due for rent tomorrow, $220 for cable and internet, $160 for power. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. WHERE AM I GONNA PULL $800 out OF MY ASS. But looking at my baby, I already knew I was going to do it. By the time I got home, without him, I’d come undone. I knew I had to do something that’s extremely hard- ask papa for money. I haven’t in 4 years. Because I already owe him from back then and never was able to pay him back at the time, so it was all I could do not to ask for any more. I finally thought I was becoming independent and self reliant. After I asked him, I started sobbing with hot shame. My mom’s esp kicked in, I guess. She called right that moment, and I kind of let it out. Even K was taken aback and felt bad. He knows he fucked us by not going back to work and renewing his certs on time. We would have had more than enough money by now with little struggle, if he hadn’t let his depression overtake him. While he recovered from his mother’s death, I continued working 2 jobs while he got unemployment every week and sat at the computer all day, housework a rarity. He borrowed quite a bit the last few months from his brothers. Now everything I attempted to save is more than gone.

I had to go back to work at 4 and went through the motions. Got a brief update from the hospital that it’s a potential bladder problem, but that they are keeping Olls overnight which upset me further. K went to see him in person, said he looked a little better. Still feels like torture because it’s his first night away from home and I don’t know every detail of what is happening.

For now, should sleep.