Emotionally drained

My chaotic week continued at a frenzied pace.

On Tuesday, a dear friend of mine came to work to take me to lunch, and announced he was interviwing the following morning for what could be a HUGE promotion - In FORT MYERS! I was kind of taken aback, and a bit sad, as he's been a great friend, and a wonderful should to cry on... a big brother to me.

So Wednesday night he calls (from New Orleans, where he's visiting his family) to tell me it's almost a definite yes. AND, if he gets it, they want him to move there in about a week's time.

I was crushed.

Thursday night it seemed there was a glimmer of hope (I say this selfishly, seeing as I really DO want him to get the job, as I know it's what he wants, but for my own selfish reasons, I simply don't want him to move 7 hours away - it's hard to replace good friends). He said his Regional VP had called to say there was one more (viable) candidate they had left to interview the following day, but that even if he DIDN'T get this promotion, they have something (kind of a stepping stone) they're planning for him here within two months.

And then he called last night to say they had called with the offer, he accepted, and he'll know all the terms, time frame, etc... when he gets back on Tuesday, but that it will be within a couple of weeks.

So I'm back to being crushed.

In the midst of all this turmoil, I spent 2 days frantically trying to locate a home for those two little orphaned kittens. Meanwhile, they stayed with me, I handfed them numerous times each day (and through the night) and I grew very attached to them.

When I failed to find them a home, several people said to take them to the Humane Society, where they couuld be placed with a foster family until they were old enough for adoption. So, bawling, I took them in. The woman at the 'receiving' desk picked them up, cooed at them, told them how cute they were, and then, while holding them against her chest, informed me that if I were to leave them there, they would be destroyed.

I lost it.

When I asked why, I was informed that kittens must be eating solid/hard food on their own, and must weigh 1.5 lbs before they can be put up for adoption. These kittens are about 3 weeks from reaching that point.

So, crying, I loaded them back into the box, got back in the car, and came home. I called anyone and everyone I could think of, trying like hell to find a home for them (and at this point, I felt it better they be adopted together, as they're very close)

Finally, my roommate suggested I take them to the animal hospital by our house - she said she'd seen many 'orphans' get dropped off there. So, again, we all piled into the car, all three of us crying, and I took them over there. The receptionist was a cold bitch, not even flinching when I repeated what the woman at the Humane Society had told me. But one of the vet's assistants fell in love with them, and (after getting permission from one of the Doctors) agreed to keep them there as resident pets.

*phew*

But now I miss them, and I miss my friend.

It's been a rough week.

Now playing: "The Hamptons" - a documentary, on (gasp!) WE. Shit, could these people BE any more superficial? Oh wait... I had better not ask. I'm sure they could.