13 August 2026

Dogsitting for the second time in a month. There is a very good reason for it, but unfortunately the good reason involves Neighbor, meaning I am also minding his dogs. Also unfortunately, he’s out of town for long enough that he couldn’t in good conscience keep his English-shepherd brother-sister pair in his house the whole time, so they are staying with me and spending all their waking hours outside, and they have gone straight out of their tiny little minds. Parker, for her part, sometimes scolds Stevie (the sister, named by L after Ms. Nicks), but for the most part seems to be hugely enjoying the company. She’s five but still gets very playful, and she usually has no doggo playmates.

The two “old men,” Jamie and Gabriel, spend most of their time napping. Jamie is usually the easy one, but this time around he’s had the runs a bit, right when he’s developing problems with his hind end. He walks okay, but his ability to squat is in decline. It wasn’t pretty, but (I hope) he seems to be doing better after the festivities yesterday, and I am making him wear “dog handles” until further notice so I can help him if I need to. Meanwhile, Gabriel is put out by L being gone again so soon and decided to take it out on a roll of toilet paper. Stahhhhhp.

Tony, the Jack Russell, is still at Neighbor’s house. He would be here, but he can’t get along with any male dog except Stevie’s brother Spot, and only because Spot is both literally and figuratively the bigger asshole. (Spot likes me, but I have to watch him around his fellow doggo dudes.) Usually, Tony is prickly with me and only accepts limited pettings, and we’re talking ten seconds at most til he starts showing teeth and I have to stop. With the twins gone, he’s almost a different dog. Tippytaps and bounces when it’s time to eat. FLYS to the door when I say “walkies.” And… and… and… a couple days ago, HE ROLLED OVER ON HIS BACK AND LET ME PET HIS BELLY. Two years I have been acquainted with this dog and this is a fucking first. Who are you and where’s the fucking pod. Mind you, this is the same dog who once let me pet him while he was on the sofa, and normally that’s a biting offense. So some of this may just be that he likes me a lot, plus is lonely for his dad. But he has also been able to dump a lot of his stress without the terror twins in the house. So… who knows.

I am still adjusting to my changed financial situation. Like… I know that at least for now, I'm solvent. But it won’t last. I worry about that all the time. I can’t help myself. I don’t want to squander it.

It’s fucking maddening, because I could both get a vehicle in good shape and also pay for an apartment for a whole year, and still have a decent amount of money left over. But there is no use doing that if the job market is terrible, which it is here. I would need something that paid enough that I could keep the apartment after Year One. This is California. In a rural county. That’s a tourist trap. Un-fucking-likely. And there is no point getting my own place if I have to have a housemate. I may as well stay where I am and keep more of my money. But I don’t want to stay here, because I desperately want my own place. And round and round we go.

I’m also seeing signs in other quarters that the situation I thought would develop for me is not actually going to happen. I can’t see why that is, but the signs are definitely there. Nothing I can say to that because I have no control in the matter. All I can do at this point is look out for myself. I have some loose ends in that area that I need to tie up, but apart from that I can’t spare energy to worry about it. What will happen will happen.

And I have sooooo much of my own shit to fix.

Working on it. (I have paid off my smaller student loan! Woohoo! Long story. Maybe later.)