Poisonous Cucumbers and My Dying Dog

I got to work over today because I’m a little behind and the new office person doesn’t start until next week. Today has been a week since she was fired. And a week and one day since she spiked my cucumbers. I forgot to mention that yesterday because I still find it so amusing and one of those things that happen in the movies that make you say, “I wish a mother fucker would,” in real life. But a mother fucker did. I was at my desk working and I had just peeled and cut a cucumber that the other office girl brought in from the garden. There was nothing suspect about said cucumber. I had eaten one the day before. It was actually really good. But that day, something was off. Not at first. At first, it was fine. The first one I ate was good. So was the second one (pieces, not whole cucumbers). While I was at my desk busy, the office girl brought me a plate of cucumbers. Half of what I had cut. I didn’t really think anything of. But that was just my stupidity. I should have thought all kinds of things of it because by that point I knew she had doctored her drug test results. I knew she was a pathological liar. I knew she was a sociopath. And I knew she was a junkie (because she pointed out her dope dealer to me on Facebook and said it was her sister’s dope dealer). Having surrounded myself at various times in my life with questionable company, I’m usually pretty good at spotting all of the above. So I should have known better than to eat anything that she gave me. But I didn’t. I wasn’t thinking about it at all really because, like I said, shit like that only happens in the movies. So I took a third piece of the cucumber and ate it. It tasted kind of bitter, but I didn’t think much of it. I took another piece and took a bit out of it. I didn’t eat the whole thing because as soon as it hit my mouth, I knew something was wrong with it. But I did chew it up before I realized it. I spit it in the garbage can and threw the rest of the cucumbers away. And then I started feeling slow. Like slow motion like the movies. And not the good kind of slow motion like when you eat a special brownie and melt into your bed like it’s quicksand. I’m talking about the bad kind of slow motion like the kind you get when you break your elbow scrapping metal and they load you full of morphine and who knows what else in the ambulance before they leave for the hospital. But it was just slightly because I didn’t eat all of it. And I guess because I didn’t eat all of it, it didn’t last long. But while I was feeling woozy, I dug the cucumbers out of the garbage can and put them in a baggie in my pocket. I ended up leaving work early because I wanted to take them to the police station or to be tested somewhere. Needless to say, everyone I spoke to thought I was nuts (because I sounded nuts) and I eventually just decided to forget about it altogether. Because if I don’t know for sure, I only have what I think to go on and I could be wrong. If I know for sure, then I would be pissed off and that’s never good. Needless to say, I had more drama the first month of this job than I’ve had in the last year or more of my life. Luckily it’s over. And luckily I’m getting all the overtime I want so that I can keep up with the paperwork. And the overtime is definitely needed because the loaner dog I have been complaining about for the last two years is on her deathbed (I think) and I need to take her to the vet. I just keep putting it off. 1.) because I don’t have the money for the vet and 2.) because I’m about 90% sure the vet is going to say she’s riddled with cancer and needs to be put down. And my heart isn’t ready for that. Even though she’s not technically my dog, I’ve known her since she was a pup and I’ve loved her for the last 2+ years. So I’m getting enough overtime to go to the vet, but I’m getting it on Saturday so I can’t take her. It’s a vicious cycle. But I have given myself til the end of the year. She’s not in pain. She may be a little uncomfortable, but she’s not right now because she has sleep in the bed privileges even though the other two monsters are forbidden in the bed right now, I feel bad that she doesn’t have much time left, so I should make her feel as comfortable and as loved as possible just in case she doesn’t wake up tomorrow. I guess we should all treat each other like that because you never know when someone you love isn’t going to wake up tomorrow.

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