I am reading this book, which is pretty good. Anyway, in the book, at one point it says something to the effect of "Its hard to let yourself love what you know you may never have". I feel so sad. I just want to hide under the bed and cry, and cry and cry some more. And I am not sure why. I am being worn down at work again, it seems to be a spring affliction for me for some reason. I want someone to make the pain go away. I don't want to cry any more right now. Although crying is not worse than not being able too. I am feeling overwhelmed from work beccause it is conflicting. I want to help and give the animals the benefit of the doubt, and give the people who come in the benefit of the doubt, but when your wrong, your oh so very wrong, and it sucks. On the other hand, if you don't give everyone the benefit of the doubt, everyone suffers. Animals get put to sleep, and miss out on their chance for a home. I wish there was a right answer. I am so tired for now. I want some time off, I need a break. But I jsut have to take it one day at a time, becuase I know that I will be ok again in a llittle while, if I just keep plugging along. If I don't think of the never ending-ness of it, then it is easier to deal with all of the little bits. Its also scary because now that we have been turned down yet again by the town, one of the options on the horizon is closing down. Letting the money run out, or giving all of the money to the ASPCA and justr closing the doors. Getting rid of the animals we have through any means necessary, and leaving it all behind. Because how can we operate if we don't have a building? And the town has made it just about impossible for us to get a new building, and the one we are currently in is no good for the animals or the staff. Closing down is of course a last option, and *probably* won't happen, but its scary to think that the board of directors is actually considering that as a plan. For me it could be a blessing or a curse. I am adicted to the place, and have been pretty much guaranteed that I won't get fired unless I really really fuck up majorly. Which means that its going to take some pretty amazing feats to get me to leave the shelter. The shelter closing would do it very effectively. On the other hand, I would then loose the job that I have been at for the last 5 yrs, and the one thing I think I am clearly qualified to do. Which would suck. Maybe I could find a better job that I would be happier at if I didn't work at the shelter, but that remains to be seen. And I know its silly to worry about it, because it probably woin't happen, but still.

This is to Ken. Don;t be a pansy and TELL HER. lol Not like I am one to talk, but come on now, we see how well never telling does for me and it obviously doesn't work. So TELL HER. :-P The worst that can happen is that she doesn't feel the same for you right? How do you know if you don't speak up? Maybe she is having the same exact feelings for you, and is having the same thoughts... "Oh I won't say anything because he isn't saying anything and therefore it wouldn't work..." Stranger things have happened my friend. Where did your message board go? Alrighty, thats all I had to say on that. Don't kill me.

Feb. 16 came and went, and I didn't really notice. Feb 16th marks the 5th month since Cubby. I still have his picture framed, and actually on top of my computer monitor. I still have moments when I think "Oh wait, maybe it was some trick, some dream, maybe he really is ok." I still have times when I get very sad, and feel very confused about it all. But the 16th came and went, and it wasn't an event. It was nothing other than any other ordinary day. I thought of him no more than I do on a day to day basis. I didn't forget, I just didn't notice. I forgot that this had happened one other time, or atleast something vaguely similar. It was again with an "aggressive" dog at work. Rather different personatlity though. She didn't really like strangers, and was timid, rather than being over protective and trying to be dominant. Her name was Rocky. Well, she ended up biting me in a dog fight, and then had to be quarantined for 2 weeks. The week that she got off quarrentine, I didn't work because I had something to do at school. I came in the following week, and noticed she was gone. My first assumption was she had been euthanized. I burst into tears, we are talking hysterical sobbing. (I was 16 or 17 and had a lot of shit going on) I ran into the back and checked the files, and it turned out she had been adopted instead. I still spent the rest of the day crying. Lol. I mourned her for about two weeks good and proper, and then I think I was ok. Humans have this remarkable thing in thei wiring that doesn't allow us to accurately remember pain, either physical or emotional. It is this that allows us to have multiple children, and to have relationships with any other being without killing ourselves. LOL Point being, that I don't remember how long I missed her for, how long before I was completely over her. How long before I could think of her, and not think of my own loss. I understand that this is different because of the Cubby is dead, and Rocky simply got a nice home, and because this time, the choice was mine, where last time it wasn't, but thats besides the point. 4 months is a long time to dwell in the animal sheltering world. But I didn't share my dwelling (atleast I attempted to hide it, albiet not always completely successfully) with my fellow coworkers, or really anyone exactly. I obviously didn't exactly keep it to myself, as is evident by all of the freaking times I wrote about it on here, howeverm I never really hashed it out with anyone the way I really wanted too. The way I yearned too. I wanted to share, because that would make me more human, and because you share your pain with those you love and are close too, so why wouldn't I? Just a glitch in my wiring I guess. And what really sucks, I know, at some point, I will do this again, and again, and yes, probably again. There is no good way to avoid it. You just have go through it, be in pain, forget about it, and then the cycle starts again. Damn life is a bitch and then you die. Jeepers.

I was talking to these two girls at that I work with. One of them had lived and worked in Colorado for a while. She showed me the pictures. It was beautiful. It made me start thinking of going again. It stirred up that desire to run again. When things get bad, I dream of running. Of going to Montana, or Colorado, or Oregon, or Maine. And for some reason, the thoughts hadn't been so strong lately. Until I talked to this girl atleast. I want to go. I want to "meet the coolest people". She said everyone there was nmice, she had a lot of friends. I want that. She also said it was like a big party most of the time. I could live with that also. Get it out of my system or something. Go away, and find everything that is missing in my life here. I try so hard to fill up that emptiness that I feel. I try to fill it with either food, or living things. I want to own every plant I see, and I want to own all of these pets. Because I somehow think that by owning these pets, and these plants, they will fulfill something in me that needs to be loved and needed. It doesn't quite work like that. It was that same feeling that had me get my cat to begin with. And then had me get the three vine plants, which will eventually grow to overtake my apartment. One of them was well on its way of overtaking my bedroom in my other house until Cubby, thedog, broke the long vine that stretched all the way across my room one night. Gita, my rabbit, was for the same reason. Haha. His name is from a book I read about a witch with my name. Gita was her familiar, and loved her soooo much. She was all he needed, her happiness. I wanted someone/something to love me like that. Because somewhere/ somehow, in some fantasy world that I live in, that love wil lmake me better, make me sane, make me whole and full. And I know that going away woiuld be simply in search of that. k However, I fee;l that I will regret not going out of fear. So I sort of decided. I will gie it one year. One more year, and then, if I don't have a compelling reason to stay, a reason that isn't small, orange and furry and named Freddie, I will pick upand go. And to hell with everything else. And it kills me to say that. Especially working where I work. Especially since Freddie is the only reason I got out of bed voluntarily for 3 years. And sometimes still is. I hope against all hope that I will find a way to keep him with me always. :*( But is it fair for me to keep just existing if I can get away and maybe be better for it? I don't know. I hope I don't really ahve to make that choce. I had to do it once with the dog that wasn't even mine, I hat to think that I would even be able to make that decision again.