Tired. Grumpy. Worried.

They don't have an icon that compbines all three. *Le Sigh*

Went to bed at one am, which isn't all that unusual, except that I forgot that Fuzzy needed to be up early this morning. And then at two Zorro had a seizure. Icky. No one should have to change their sheets at two AM because of a dog. Or really, because of anything.

Cleo's sick, and is demonstrating this by living puddles of doggie stuff all over the carpet. Our carpet, btw, is the color of beach sand, and therefore /everything/ shows. Zorro's in seizure mode. I didn't buy enough caffeine this morning. Two hours less sleep and I only have /one/ macchiato. Unfair!

Every time Zorro starts a seizure cycle I worry that he'll injure himself, or that he'll go into status, and not come out. And I worry that we should consider putting him down, except that this is a bad 36 hours or so out of six-to-eight weeks of normalcy.


I hate Fridays. Bad things always happen on Fridays.