The first person who says something about me eating at McDonald’s gets punched in the throat by my bunny.
Yes, It has been that sort of day.
Yes, I know it is “drive thru” not “drive through,” but fuck you that’s why.
We put Dad into hospice today. My heart hurts. I know this is a long time coming. I know this is better than some outcomes, but, fuck it hurts. You work to prepare yourself, but there is no real preparation for the deep panic when you look at your beloved father and realize soon you won’t ever see them again. All I could think today is ‘this is going to suuuuck.’
I know we will get through it as a family. I know it is right thing to do. Still, it fucking sucks.
There have been many days when the pain and fear has threatened to sink me. Sometimes the only day I can keep the pain from screaming inside of me is be with my Viking or my bunny, Eatsy. Last month, I got the sweetest little bratty bunny. I picked her up the day after a doctor told us Dad would probably not make it long and the day before giant storm took out our internet (for like three damn weeks) and spawned something like seven tornadoes, including a tigernado. No, seriously, there is a big cat sanctuary by my house, and there was speculation a tiger was loose. Seriously, what the fuck Oklahoma?
Anyway, so I have this bunny now. She’s my furbaby. The Viking pretends she is only my rabbit, but he talks about her as much as I do. She’s turned us into a little family. And some days petting her little crazy Mohawk and mutton chops is the best thing to help me breathe.
To be honest, I have no idea how I’m supposed to do this. I want to stomp my foot and tell people this isn’t happening, so they just need to busy their happy asses fixing it. It doesn’t work like that. That is improper adulting. I’m lackluster at best at adulting, and this shit is like extra gold expert level adulting.
I can do this. I think. I’m going to go pet my bunny.