I desperately want to work again. I'm terrible with staying at home. Home now is in New Zealand. I live on "The Shore" which some people disagree with. I dislike that there's no way to bike to work any more after dropping mad cash-monies to get those bikes. Maybe in time things will change. But working. I like my job, I'm good at it and I'm getting better. Or I was until I bunked up. The whole system bunked up but I helped the bunking up to start.
My immigration paperwork was missing my husband's passport because it wasn't on the BLOODY GODDAMNED CHECKLIST for things that were required to be included. It was just in small print in the middle of the form. And the case worker said a lot of people miss that. Why don't you bloody fix it then? So, yeah. Immigrating sucks donkey bollocks.
Being at home has given me the opportunity to try to nurse my cat. I'm a terrible nurse though. I get sad. And that just isn't helpful. My cat (who is actually my husband's cat) is dying. She's old and she won't eat and when she does eat she has terrible poos. She's been falling a lot. I find this heartbreaking. She'll be trying to climb up to the window (which now has a series of boxes like a staircase) and on the final step she'll pop up and then lean too far back and come crashing down. She's down to 2.2kg from 3.5kg. Never a big cat but now she's impossibly small. I'm afraid to do anything with her.
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