My sister's husband has this really old dog named Katie. She's got all kinds of health problems, tumors, probably gout and God knows what else. I'm sorry to say this but she's really gross and pathetic to look at. It's like a tumor is eating her snout from the inside out and she huffs and snorts in her attempts to breathe. Sometimes blood comes spraying out of her nose when she breathes out. This morning my mom walked past her and Katie let out a snort and my mom said, "Katie, aren't you dead yet?"

I know that sounds bad, but man, what a downer having to be around this dying dog. My sister's husband, Bill, refuses to get the dog put to sleep. My mom joked that we should get the dog put to sleep for his birthday on Friday!

I feel better because before Karma left for work she gave me a Darvocet for my cramps. Maybe that's how I'll get through this "vacation": prescription pain killers. I'll just smile and not think about the giant, lonely question mark my life has turned out to be.

Look, I am sucking it up and I'm going to try to make the best of it. I just wish I could spend more time with my sister.

I am however, utterly scandelized by my sister's lack of interest in recycling. Aluminium cans go straight in the trash and it makes me cringe.