I called the vet at 8am. They suggested I take her in straight away.
I've got to go to work.
The vet is here now.
I've got to... no I don't. I couldn't leave it for another ten hours. Why not now? What about all those people at work who take time off because their stupid kid is sick... like it's unquestionable. Why not?
It was raining as I drover her home; a sea of red lights, a galaxy of white lights.
Where am I, I thought, in the car cone-of-silence, in the traffic, in the dark.
My friends are being just as mysterious, just as treacherous, as they have always been. Interfering in each other's lives, for everyone's good, of course. Such intrigue, such school-like hurts. So many agendas.
But you know, I'm wondering if this is the right forum for a chronicle of my mate's lives.
Nah, I reckon not.
Imagine if one of them stumbled across it. I'm already famous for journaling their lives for the last ten years.
So maybe this should be more internal. Less of the extraneous stuff. I'll save them for a coffee table book.
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