The 8th & 9th; It really happened.

November 10, 2016 — Leave a comment

The 8th of November. 

Well we know Dixville Notch in New Hampshire has done the right thing. Just got to hope the rest of America follows suit. Honestly I am so nervous – as someone on Twitter said, it’s like Christmas Eve and the night before dangerous, life-threatening surgery at the same time. 

I have had a very quiet day – still no building to wake me but the skip arrived today so that might change tomorrow. I have to get up for the hairdresser tomorrow anyway so hopefully it won’t matter. I did a blog post, then did a lot of crochet. Making myself a scarf/snood in the softest wool to ever exist. My face is going to be snuggly as fuck. I came across it in John Lewis, and now I am hearing disturbing reports that they are going to get rid of the haberdashery. They deny it, and I do hope they are not lying because I love it. 

This afternoon, we had to take all the cats to the vet for their second jabs. We kind of had to force Amy into her carrier and she wasn’t thrilled but I gave her lots of treats to try and appease her. When we took them in, the vet asked if we wanted a sickly chicken – someone found a chicken roaming in the park and brought it in. We declined. 

Got a couple coming to see Archie tomorrow evening. Hooray!

The 9th of November. 

It really happened. I was dreaming that Hillary won by a landslide, woke up at 5am and checked the news. Trump had 240, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to put the news on (still can’t) so I listened to two RHLSTPs until it was a socially acceptable time to get up. 

I’ve been at Black Sheep for a lot of today, having my hair whitened for Christmas. Obviously Trump is all we could talk about. I think we are all still in shock. Disbelief. I’m seeing Nish on Friday and I think we might become hysterical. The only way to cope with it right now. 

I left at half two, and we went to Pets at Home to buy a tank for the hamster to live in. This morning, to add insult to injury, Graham decided he would projectile pee in spurts out of the cage. We cannot have that so now he’s got a big plastic tank. He’s still registering the fact that he no longer has bars he can climb and chew. I am sure he will adjust. 

The people who were coming to see Archie have pulled out because they feel they’re not ready right now. That’s fine; we’d rather they worked that out now. 

The world is a scary place. 

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