This week has been such an emotional week. I'm so glad it's almost over. I've never felt more like an emotional basketcase.
So my beloved Scott, in response to the death of my dear little Boris, bought me another Russian dwarf hamster. Shocked is the more appropriate word. Good intentions. But, umm, he won't do that again. How I have a new little hamster who I hope it tootling around the house in the little ball. Scott said they didn't have any wheels for the little hammies to run in in the store, which would account for this little hammie's bulk. I'm considering calling the little tyke Baby X after a story we read in my Communication and Gender class. Michelle calls Baby X "Twitchy" because every time we try to pet it, it starts to twitch and skirt away. I figure it just has to get used to us a little.
As it turns out, I can't go to Senior Ball. It falls on the exact same weekend I am going to be in Chicago for my big psychology conference. The news made me quite sad, and it hit Scott a little hard too. I told him he should go to the ball anyway, but it's anyone's guess as to whether or not he will for once listen to me.
You'd be proud of me. Finally stood up for myself and let him have it. Just a little. I'm sure someone else did the rest. Which I don't approve of and have since reprimanded. But that's that.