Screw you, 2007

I must say, so far 2007 has not been a good year. Yesterday Mike was in bed all day recouperating from his cold, and today he took a half-day so we could go to the doctor. The doctor put him on another course of prednisone, plus an antibiotic and more albuterol. While it was nothing huge, I got the impression that Mike's asthma and the cold were more severe than we'd thought.

Mike also got a call from the lead singer of his band today, saying Mike was kicked out. Mike is understandably hurt after all the effort and work he's put in, plus it's uncomfortable that his best friend is still in the band. All in all, though, he's handling it better than me. I've been stomping around all afternoon saying things like, "I hope Dan has a freak accident and breaks both his hands," and "What's Dan's phone number? I want to send him a text message that says, 'I HATE YOU.'"

Then there was Rusty's vet appointment today. They pointed out that now that it was 2007 he's ten years old, which just sounds so old to me. It also means that Cider is twelve. In addition to Rusty's blocked tear ducts, FIV, vomiting, and lovely baldness due to his obsessively licking the fur off his belly, the vet detected some irregular heartbeats. When I asked, "Well, what are some signs I should be looking for that would indicate he's having problems with his heart?" she responded, "Well, sudden death is the big one." Great. So when I come home and find my cat dropped dead I'll know why. She didn't know of anything else I could look for or do.

The year 2007 is only two days old, so it has time to improve. I hope it does.