doesn't mean the night is actually over...
cuz the night ain't ever over
til the fucking fat lady sings.
I feel like puking...and crying...and puking while crying.
relax...nothing is horribly wrong at this particular moment. I just never actually got to sleep until close to 5:30. as soon as I hauled off to bed, I saw that angel was staggeringly hypoglycemic. it was another 2 and a half hours before I thought she was safe enough to quit bugging. she still is not all that shit hot this morning either.
I did wake up at 7, got up, checked her and went straight back to bed. I woke again at 8;15 to the gawd damn shavings truck at the gate. I flew out of bed cursing, threw my clothes on, screamed at the dogs to shut the hell up or I would kill them all, ran out the door, straight into lexi who thank god had come early, and wrote her a cheque to give to the shavings guy.
there is no way around it, this morning I do not like rescue life at all.