This morning I was thinking about other girls my age. They're carefree. Still in college, living at home, dating and going to bars every night of the week.

I started thinking about this while I was on the phone with my vet, listening to her ramble on about fecal smears. "How much poop?" I asked.

"About a tablespoon."

So I hung up the phone and thought about the state of my life. I could've avoided becoming an adult so quickly, could still be living with my parents and switching majors. Instead, I'm rifling through my silverware drawer trying to decide which spoon I'm going to use to scrape diarrhea off my carpet, and then throw away. I picked one that had been in the garbage disposal a few times and ever since has cut my mouth when I tried to eat ice cream.

So the shit is in a ziplock baggie, and I'm about to run a dog to the vet. I've only known this dog for 48 hours and she hasn't eaten a morsel of food. One day, when she's loving up on her new mom in her new home, hopefully she'll thank me. And maybe save up her biscuits to buy me a better carpet cleaner.

Karma: +5