This whole week has been a blur. To start off my emotions are out of whack so rationally processing anything is difficult. The littlest things are huge deals and so on. Yesterday however was not a blur, I remember everything with remarkable distinction.
First off, Jujube (my new bunny) ran out of food so I emailed the nice breeder we got Juju from, asking her what brand she gave her bunnies (that way I could get the same kind). She told me that brand is only sold at Tractor Supply or online. I looked it up on Tractor Supply's website, and sure enough they had a 25 lb. bag and a 50 lb. bag. Much to my demise, the only one they had in stock for the next week was the 50 lb. bag. How is my little 2 1/2 bunny suppose to eat all that food, anyway?! Seeing no other option, I drove to the store where it all went down. Allow me to clearly illustrate the scene for you:
I walked into Tractor Supply in my work clothes (nice pants, a nice shirt, sweater, and high heel boots) and asked to be directed to the rabbit food. The oh-so-kind gentleman pointed me in the direction of the food and noted that he only had a 50 lb. bag available. I walked one aisle over to find exactly what I needed...yet how on this green earth was I going to get that oblong, jumbo-sized bag to the cash register, much less to my car? Being only slightly independent and stubborn (oh yes, only "slightly"), I decided I would haul it myself! Sure enough, I lugged, hobbled, and shuffled that bag over to the lady who stood there, chuckling all the while. Next time I shall send my "muscle head" of a boyfriend to fetch Juju's extravagant 50 lb. bag of gourmet good.
After retrieving Miss Thang's food, I hopped into my car and started for home. Without skipping a beat, my car kindly reminded me it also needed some food when the empty light meekly flicker on. Ugh! Filling up has become increasingly daunting as the prices continue to rise. Nevertheless, I stopped at a reasonably-priced gas station. The whole process went smoothly!... until I went inside the convenience store. Being in a less-familiar area of town, I wanted to make the trip as quick as possible. With gas-pump hands, I turned my focus to the dingy, stinky restroom. The door to the bathroom was undoubtedly one of the heaviest doors I have tried to open; I have reason to believe the door was too large for the frame built to support it. After almost breaking into the bathroom, I washed my hands and proceeded to commit the act that still lingers in my memory (and stride!). Recalling how difficult the door was to pry open, I planted my feet and wrenched it open as hard as I could. The next thing I knew, tears streaked down my cheeks and to the cold tile floor. In my efforts to jerk the door open, I managed to drive the inside edge of the door right into the center of my knee, causing shooting pains throughout my leg. Thoroughly hurt and embarrassed, I limped back to my car, not caring to look back at the cashier who was probably wondering what happened.
All in all, what felt like a split kneecap showed up as a nice bruise on the middle of my knee. I guess I cannot complain too much, right?
Later that evening, I was more than happy to arrive at my next destination- as planned- to enjoy a nice, low-key dinner with Brandon. That place happened to be the delicious restaurant, Olive Garden, where one would have to be crazy not to fall in love with the breadsticks!
We returned to his house for some rest and relaxation-- just what the doctor ordered!