Alright, it’s day five -scratch that – day six of not having work and I’m only slightly clawing at the walls. In just one week my car broke down, I lost my job, I had to max out all of the credit cards I’d just paid off. Not to mention all of the other jobs that I’d had interviews for have been pulled and my therapist also canceled my appointments. So I guess fuck. There’s more little petty things I could add, but if I write them all out it’d just make me feel like I was whining. I hate saying it could be worse, but it could really be worse. I just feel like everytime I’m close to getting myself out of a shit situation things compound. It makes me afraid to do anything, but in all seriousness it’s really starting to piss me the fuck off.
I want to talk to life’s manager.
Take these fucking lemons back!
In the interim I’ve been trying to do all of the things that I have been pushing aside even more than my story. I’ve sharpened all of my knives to nice razor edges, made socks, cleaned all of the things, drank way too much one day, got back into Dungeons and Dragons with some friends of mine and so much more! All in all not bad for keeping myself from panicking. I think I gotten over the initial shock of losing my job from the Shelter in Place Order that closed the restaurants and also losing the stress I’ve grown attached to. The first few days I couldn’t sit still and I could feel my heart try to boil over every other hour. Today was different though; I actually slept in today. I never sleep in. Sleep and I are in an abusive relationship.
It felt nice just being awake, in my bed and I not needing to open my eyes, so I just laid there listening to the sounds of the house and feeling the softness of my blankets. Somewhere in there I’d fallen back to sleep and I only got up so I could feed my animals. I’d wanted to write something, but my anxiety kept me from it. I keep writing then deleting, then going off on a tangent and then writing and deleting. I just have zero idea of what I should be writing about, but I need to keep my hands moving. Pretty sure everyone is talking about the virus and how it’s impacted their lives and bla bla bla. I really think the whole virus situation sucks but there’s not much I can do, and yet I just feel weird trying to talk about anything else I guess?
Why can’t I just talk about my chinchilla and my rabbit and how it’s been so difficult to find good hay and suitable toys? Because that’s been stupid difficult even before The Virus That Must Not be Named gridlocked life. I have to travel almost 40 minutes to find a place that sells alfalfa hay, because the fucking stores that sell the actual LIVE chinchillas (which I’m against) don’t actually sell anything that would be suitable for a chinchilla. And I know what you’re thinking: there’s other types of hay?
Rabbits and guinea pigs are what most people think chinchillas are similar to, but chinnies are almost the opposite of that. They need high-protein hay, places to parkour, and wooden ledges. Chinchillas are very fuzzy squirrels that can live for 10-20 years depending on all the usual factors. I got to meet a 20 year old chinny and she was very sweet. I got my chinchilla when he was maybe two months old and since I had no idea what to do with a chinchilla, I just took him from a friend who was desperate to get him homed, I tried to find things online and ran a lot of conflicting information. Since chinchillas have only recently been kept as pets (an effort to keep them from being coats) there is not much information out there for their care and ailments. What little you find is conflicting and every now and again you get some valuable information. I was lucky to have some breeders in my area and a very knowledgeable exotic pet veterinarian. About a month after having him he got a respiratory infection and I was able to talk to another lady who had 40 chinchillas. She wasn’t a breeder she just starting rescuing as many as she could. The vets also helped me when I’d gotten my poor rabbit. My rabbit couldn’t walk his nails were so long, he had a pretty extreme case of ear mites, food aggressive and about 5 pounds overweight, because the family who’d had him before me were just feeding him pellets. Instead of, you know, veggies.
Now they both are so insanely spoiled. I’ve been trying to write this for the past few hours and everytime I get a sentence down I get a headbut from my rabbit. His need for love is more important. If I continue to write he stands up on my shoulder and pushes me. In case you’re wondering how big this rabbit is, I’m 5’9” and when he stands up he reaches up to about mid-thigh (maybe just above my knee?) and is about 12 pounds. Sometimes I wonder if it’s actually a bunny. The people who I’d gotten him from say he’s a Havana rabbit but those tend to only get about 9 pounds in weight. The doctors say he’s fit and I’m pretty sure he’s part dire-bunny. Either way those are my boys and I’d rather talk about them than wait for the next thing to go wrong in my life.
Who knows maybe I’ll start putting up tutorials or something? Shit is going to get weird that’s all I can say. Also if you have any questions about chinchillas or rabbits check out my contact page and send me an email.