I Had a Good Time

"Worry obsessively, get bent out of shape, and spazz first."

That is my motto. I follow it very closely. As an event approached over the course of last week, I relied heavily on it. I was certain that no one would talk to me at the event because I don't wear pointy toed shoes or take cabs everywhere. The event just ended, though, and I had a fantastic time. Like 99.7% of other events that I am sure will not be fun for me, I was dead wrong. Everyone was fun and welcoming, even if I still hate the Flake.

Given how often my motto fails me, you might think I should adopt a new credo. Think of all the time I would save if I didn't work myself into a frenzy over numerous situations that turn out to be benign or better. Sometimes I think about what I might do with such vast amounts of found time. Maybe blog more? Take up paint-by-numbers? Re-train Tycho the Giant Rabbit to use his litter box consistently? Nah. People always say you should focus on what you are good at, and I excel at spazzing.

Speaking of good times, freaking out, and rabbits, however, I took Tycho to the vet last Monday. This was not the good time. He HATES taking the bus and sheds up a storm. I look like I am donning a white fur coat by the time the ordeal is over. No, the good times are resulting from the pain medication that the vet gave Tycho. He likely has arthritis in his hips which is preventing him from moving freely, and she thought painkiller would help. Now that he gets 1/4 of a tablet of dope once a day delivered in the center of a cluster of raisins, he is the happiest rabbit I ever saw. Who knows? Maybe he slipped me some earlier and that's why I am in such a good mood too. (Or it could be that I ran a tad over 5.5 miles this afternoon, which is the most I ever ran at once and am super proud of myself.)

So that's the stories, morning glories.