The Hallelujah-Girl

I am counting the days until September 28th. It is my honest and sincere hope, that the conclusion of that day will signal the conclusion of a period of my working life that, quite frankly, started out luke-warm and hasn’t recovered in the past ten years. I will hang up my help desk hat and jump ship in order to pursue my passion. Well, at least a little. It is sad when a person and a job are as ill-matched as this computer crap and I have been. It’s been everything I never wanted: a dead-end, dull office job with no prospect of real advancement and a general environment into which I fit as well as an albatross into a mouse hole. It’s killing my will to excel and stifling my creativity. Sad, indeed.

But lest you fear I may find myself out of work and living under a bridge (which, by the way, tend to be very low around here), I have a plan. Being the smart cookie that I am, I’m going back to beginning. No, not back to when I figured I’d be a princess. And skip past the period when I really wanted to be a rock singer. There! Now you’ve got it. Early on, I developed a love for food, travel and foreign languages. I’ve traveled a lot, I’ve eaten well, it’s time to spend some effort on developing that linguistic talent further. So, after 18 months of thinking about it, I want to finally get going on that translator license. On the side, I want to sign up for French class (because I love the idea of doing it with someone, and Anke has graciously agreed to dust off her French books). Depending on the job I get -yeah, the for-money kind- I think I can tackle Italian on my own. And then, watch out, world!

Sometimes, closing one door does indeed open another. And going forward can only be better than getting stuck in the dingy corridor…

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

We’re back in Stuttgart, the pigs and I. They got to move into their new Swiss vivarium last Saturday and have finally figured out that, wow!, with that second floor, there’s a LOT of room! They have also taught the guest pigs when and why one should squeak (when I knock on the door, because usually that means FOOD). It’s too funny to get it in stereo!

Walking with the dogs hasn’t been too bad, although at least one of them manages to find some shit at least once a day. And yes, I do mean shit. As in, feces deposited by humans with defective digestive systems who cannot make it the extra 40 meters back to civilization and prefer wild crapping instead. Now, why my dogs prefer this poop over all other poops and will go the extra mile to find it, I have no idea. I would like to get me a BB gun, though, and if I ever catch someone wild crapping during our walk, that person will end up with an ass full of pellets. Then again, since Germans pay a dog tax (try to find something that’s not taxed here, I dare you), perhaps the city could, since no bags or trash receptacles are provided in the forest, hang little scoops on the trees so that those who must give in to the urge to kack can at least bury their deposits. Well, a girl can dream…

I am pleased to report that the cats are doing well. They get catered mushfood twice a day and have plenty of opportunity to cuddle, play and rest. In short, to do all those things I’d like to do but can’t because the cats are preventing me from doing them. Especially the rest bit is getting a little difficult to deal with. It’s one thing to prop your eyelids open and pretend to be awake at work (I can almost sleep type now), but getting through that hour-long commute is tricky…

Luckily, the weekend is now approaching fast. My exciting projects: do a morning hike with Anke, clean the bathroom, shop for hamster treats, and… take a nap!

To Everything, there is a Season

I just realized I should have kept this for a post about cooking and called it, for everything, there is a seasoning. Oh well, too late.

Things come in cycles, they say. I must be on mine, because this is an odd time. On the bright side, we picked up the vivarium on Sunday, and it is awesome! The downside to that: after the beating Carly took in the play area last night, I doubt Minnie and Emmy will tolerate her in there. Also, I attempted to order a totally cool feeding station, only to be notified this morning that they’re not shipping anything right now. Then again, my dad called yesterday to let me know the piggie castle for the play area will finally arrive in the next couple of weeks. Yay!

Apart from that, I really can’t wait to get out of the job. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but not only am I really tired of working this crap job, I’m getting seriously p.o.’d with my company which has now decided to double-tax me instead of streamlining the pay process. At this point, I just want to leave. Let me go back to PetSmart, at least, I enjoyed working there.

And since Sunday, I’ve been largely immobile due to incredible back stiffness. I guess those two slamdowns in the past three years were not appreciated by my spine as much as I had hoped. I’d like to report that I’m doing appropriate exercises for that, but since I can’t move, that’s a bit tough. Might be time to find a chiropractor.

It’s official: I’m a Cheesehead

You Are Mac and Cheese

When you are stressed out, you seek safety above everything else. And nothing is more nourishing than a big warm plate of carbs. Taking risks takes a toll on you, and you prefer your comfort food to be old fashioned. You’re the type of person who could eat the same meal every night, especially when life is hard.

What Comfort Food Are You?

Oh my god, I am the ultimate comfort food! This makes me feel very special indeed, sniff! Now, how about you guys?

Vyv is a Vixen

You Are Vixen

Sexy and sultry, you’re the one all the other reindeer dream about. Why You’re Naughty: That fur pulling spat you got into with Dancer over Santa. Why You’re Nice: Because even when you’re nice, you’re still delightfully naughty!

Which of Santa’s Reindeer Are You?

Reinventing the Family

It’s been two weeks since Louie died. Such a short, long time. Would it be callous to say, I’m over it? I’ve made my peace with it? Perhaps not callous, but certainly wrong. There is no peace in what happened, but life does go on and we should learn from the past. At least that’s what I believe.

When Piggledy died, three new animals found a home with us less than a week later. This time, the hole left by one guinea pig will be lived in, if not filled, by three new piggies. It’s only a matter of time and the right combination. Little Julius is already reserved for me. He will be able to move in with his girls sometime in January after the scars from his operation have healed and he won’t be producing any new piggies. I’ve got my eye on one little girl, currently residing a bit outside of Stuttgart, a sweet black ball of fur who needs to bring a friend who won’t bite her and harrass her. But when she’s found the right one, I’ll go get her.

Perhaps before the year is over, I’ll be making breakfast for those little muikers again. Meanwhile, Louie is still staying with us, only now what remains of him is kept in a tiny sparkly urn. One day, when I find the right place, I will bury those ashes and bits of bones.

What Not to Expect

Charity. Not here, not this year. If you’re looking for Christmas feeling, visit Kerstin and participate in her very generous advent wishlist. Apparently, everyone is wichteling like crazy this year (= secret santa 2.0), so go and find yourself a blog to play. I wrote pointless advent guessing games two years in a row, and I just don’t care enough to repeat the non-experience. But just in case you want to see my woolly side, skip on over to read a new fairy tale every week until the big day.

Meanwhile, I’ll be off to the Xmas markets… pictures will be posted as they become available.

Work with a Pig

Some mornings are clearly scarier than others. After I had made pigwig’s breakfast this morning, I went to get him out of his cage. He gets his eye drops before he eats, and that’s worked well so far. Except, when I looked in there, he had his head under a pile of hay, his butt in his pigloo, and he wasn’t moving. When I lifted the pigloo, his feet were stretched out. He still didn’t move. The last time I saw a guinea pig in that position, it was FredPig, and she was dead.

Louie isn’t, but this sure made me very afraid that if I went to work, he’d be gone by the time I came back. So, pig, breakfast, pigloo and all are at work with me today. He’s currently taking his after-breakfast nap, although he didn’t eat more than two bites of cucumber. If only there was a way to clear up his nose so he can breathe better!

I’d like to pretend that I have everything under control, but since I’ve eaten four pieces of Halloween chocolate since I got here 45 minutes ago, clearly I don’t.

Today

Maybe you’re tired of hearing it, but that doesn’t make it any less true: I am worried sick about the pigwig and not in the mood for trivial web banter, so no posts today.

Catch you later.

About Consideration

There are four other people here besides me today, three of whom I personally told I was going to work in the upstairs office until about four o’clock. I had to specially request a key for this office. I’m also supposed to leave at four-thirty to go home.

Between the four of them, they have, let’s be fair, zero brains between them. Three of them went running together, the fourth presumably went home, and not ONE of those idiots thought to call upstairs to let me know. My stuff is in my office. My coat, my money, my car keys. The people upstairs have no phone roster anywhere. I can’t pull one off the computer, because my card is, you guessed it, on my desk.

There are many words to describe people like that. I’m sure you all have a good enough imagination to come up with most of them. And me? I am effing pissed off. Royally.