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Sep. 19th, 2004 03:11 pmUnbelievably cranky today! I didn't start out that way--I woke up at 9am to bright blue skies and the kind of crisp, windy day that always makes me feel happy and energetic. I got dressed and went to visit my mother and saw this bitty Poodle dog in the middle of the very busy road near Main Street. I stopped and he came right over to me when I said, hello, little dog! so I picked him up and checked his collar. His coat was all matted and gross and I thought he might be lost or something. Collar had a random phone number on it and listed his name as 'Lidledog' so I laughed and packed him into my car--I couldn't bring him into my apartment, and didn't want to leave him alone while I called his people.
My mother lives like five minutes up the road so I brought him there and gave the number a call. Told the woman that I'd picked up her puppy in the middle of the road, was he lost? She said no, and that I shouldn't have picked him up, she lives a street over and he was just out to do his business. I was like...I'm sorry, but he's such a little guy, he could have died on that road, it's busy. She was just totally rude to me, yelled at me to bring him back and put him exactly where I'd found him, and then hung up on me.
Am I wrong to be amazed by her attitude? I mean, I called her! It's not like I picked up her dog and kept him for myself. I thought I was doing the right thing for him and was just completely amazed by the way she handled herself on the phone.
However, I didn't really handle myself much better--I wrote her a wicked nasty note about the condition of his coat and what could have happened to him on that road and how I'd call the dog officer if I ever saw him out alone again, taped it to his collar, and dropped him off at the little park on the road where she said they live. No address so that was as close and as safe as I could get him.
And now I'm kicking myself because I shouldn't have done that, I should have called her back and gotten an address or left him with the dog officer so she'd have to go get him. Or so they'd take him away from her and I could call a finder's-keepers on him; he was a wicked sweetheart. This is the problem with me when I get pissed off--I hate so much to be angry that I do whatever it takes to wash my hands of a situation or repress my anger, as opposed to really dealing with it. Then later, I regret whatever it was I did or didn't do. Must learn to think and react more coolly, dammit.
My pissiness drove me to comfort-shopping which I really could not afford to do, but really, the day called for new shirts. I ended up with a lightweight sweater which now looks maybe a little too pink but whatever, I like it, and two plain, long-sleeved tshirts. Everything a size smaller than the last time I went shopping, which was a month ago. And now I go to improve my afternoon and my mood with either a movie or a bookstore run. Hopefully movie. Mmm, Angelina Jolie and Jude Law. Mmmmmm.
My mother lives like five minutes up the road so I brought him there and gave the number a call. Told the woman that I'd picked up her puppy in the middle of the road, was he lost? She said no, and that I shouldn't have picked him up, she lives a street over and he was just out to do his business. I was like...I'm sorry, but he's such a little guy, he could have died on that road, it's busy. She was just totally rude to me, yelled at me to bring him back and put him exactly where I'd found him, and then hung up on me.
Am I wrong to be amazed by her attitude? I mean, I called her! It's not like I picked up her dog and kept him for myself. I thought I was doing the right thing for him and was just completely amazed by the way she handled herself on the phone.
However, I didn't really handle myself much better--I wrote her a wicked nasty note about the condition of his coat and what could have happened to him on that road and how I'd call the dog officer if I ever saw him out alone again, taped it to his collar, and dropped him off at the little park on the road where she said they live. No address so that was as close and as safe as I could get him.
And now I'm kicking myself because I shouldn't have done that, I should have called her back and gotten an address or left him with the dog officer so she'd have to go get him. Or so they'd take him away from her and I could call a finder's-keepers on him; he was a wicked sweetheart. This is the problem with me when I get pissed off--I hate so much to be angry that I do whatever it takes to wash my hands of a situation or repress my anger, as opposed to really dealing with it. Then later, I regret whatever it was I did or didn't do. Must learn to think and react more coolly, dammit.
My pissiness drove me to comfort-shopping which I really could not afford to do, but really, the day called for new shirts. I ended up with a lightweight sweater which now looks maybe a little too pink but whatever, I like it, and two plain, long-sleeved tshirts. Everything a size smaller than the last time I went shopping, which was a month ago. And now I go to improve my afternoon and my mood with either a movie or a bookstore run. Hopefully movie. Mmm, Angelina Jolie and Jude Law. Mmmmmm.
