Little Vertigo Dog continues to improve. We've actually taken a couple of (very short) walks in the last two nights. It probably looks like I'm walking a drunk dog-- she lurches about, head permanently cocked to the right-- but she doesn't want to come back inside. Her appetite is better, too, though she'd like me to believe that she will diiiiiiie if I don't continue cooking her chicken.
It is a grim, grim week in the world of me. Nothing to do with motherhood or lack thereof; I'm still waiting for a callback for an appointment to go over test results in that area. No, it's work. Saying that the industry I work in is "struggling" is possibly the understatement of the decade, and it's so hard to watch good people (not just in my firm) struggle, and lose their jobs, and have no hope of finding another for a while. It's just bad.
And I'm just tired of it being bad, and of being in a role where I have to keep a relatively positive outlook on things when I just want to grumble and moan and possibly crawl into a corner and cry a bit.
No point to this post, really, outside of whining a little bit. And I shouldn't, really. But sometimes, everyone needs to whine.