To the vet -- and beyond!
Monday, May 7th, 2007 04:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rolanniThe day started well, then went into a tail-spin around noon with the loss of power in the library, followed by the fire alarms going off. We dutifully filed outside, and I sat on the warm granite steps in the bright, breezy afternoon and worked on some introductory story noodles for Duainfey. In good time, the alarms stopped shrieking; we all went back inside and up the stairs, reaching our various offices about the time the second wave of fire alarms went off.
Down the steps, out the door, chat a bit in groups. The alarms stop, and in we go. The hall lights do not work in our hallway, but the photocopy machine in that hallway is powered and ready to rumba. The lights are on in my office, directly across the dark hall from the photocopy machine, and the printer on the wall nearest the hall professes itself ready to print. But there is no power on the other side of the room, where my computer and phone sit blank-screened on my desk.
Across the hall, behind the photocopy machine, John's office is completely dark, his computer out for the count. Rob has lights, but no computer; Elizabeth has computing power, but no lights. What state the offices of those who are off the hall, teaching, might be in, we can only guess.
John folds up his computer and leaves, in search of light, coffee, and a working outlet. Rob takes off for class. Elizabeth, whose office is well-windowed, goes to answer her email.
I -- come home to take Mozart to the vet.
Mozart started sneezing late Friday night and by Saturday afternoon had what looked to be a full-fledged and very drippy cold. There were no appointments available on Saturday, so we took the first available on Monday. Mozart sneezed, his eyes teared, and he was very clingy, but his appetite was robust, and he didn't seem to have any chest congestion. When we took off for the vet, I was pretty sure we'd come home with a bottle of Magic Pink Stuff.
Except not.
It turns out that it's not a cold -- lungs are clear, no fever -- but some sort of upper respiratory issue. So Mozart has little white Magic Pills to take for the next ten days. He is at the moment reclining on the bed, composing a Memo to Regional Headquarters.
I so do not need another note in my file...
Down the steps, out the door, chat a bit in groups. The alarms stop, and in we go. The hall lights do not work in our hallway, but the photocopy machine in that hallway is powered and ready to rumba. The lights are on in my office, directly across the dark hall from the photocopy machine, and the printer on the wall nearest the hall professes itself ready to print. But there is no power on the other side of the room, where my computer and phone sit blank-screened on my desk.
Across the hall, behind the photocopy machine, John's office is completely dark, his computer out for the count. Rob has lights, but no computer; Elizabeth has computing power, but no lights. What state the offices of those who are off the hall, teaching, might be in, we can only guess.
John folds up his computer and leaves, in search of light, coffee, and a working outlet. Rob takes off for class. Elizabeth, whose office is well-windowed, goes to answer her email.
I -- come home to take Mozart to the vet.
Mozart started sneezing late Friday night and by Saturday afternoon had what looked to be a full-fledged and very drippy cold. There were no appointments available on Saturday, so we took the first available on Monday. Mozart sneezed, his eyes teared, and he was very clingy, but his appetite was robust, and he didn't seem to have any chest congestion. When we took off for the vet, I was pretty sure we'd come home with a bottle of Magic Pink Stuff.
Except not.
It turns out that it's not a cold -- lungs are clear, no fever -- but some sort of upper respiratory issue. So Mozart has little white Magic Pills to take for the next ten days. He is at the moment reclining on the bed, composing a Memo to Regional Headquarters.
I so do not need another note in my file...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 09:27 pm (UTC)Ooooooh... I am sure he'll love that.
notes in the file
Date: 2007-05-07 09:54 pm (UTC)Hope M is feeling better soon!
Pills and Cats
Date: 2007-05-08 12:27 am (UTC)Is Mozart partial to pills? Something you can try to hide the pills in (although our cat was quite clever about eating everything off the pill and leaving it behind)?
Sympathy for both of you.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:58 pm (UTC)