  I like the pizza place, my back doesn't. One of the people there pointed out this evening that although i was hired first, Kurt has more hours than I do. I sort of stared at the kid blankly, and realized that HE didn't realize that Kurt and I have the same finances, so, any money that kurt or myself would be getting would be going to the same place.
It's peculiar how your thinking changes after getting married. I remember when we were dating how I always felt crappy about myself when Kurt did the treating on dates, and I felt things were 'more equal' when it was my money, or even more laughably, my MOM'S money. Things are infinitely simpler now, that way, at least. I, Robyn, mastered the breadmaker. Friends haven't been able to, largely to do with the odd requirement of the ingredients; they have to be room temperature, and, measured precisely. The bread still kind of tasted like ass, but since it was bread-in-a-box, I can't take responsibilty for it. Besides, with some peanut butter, it's splendid. I've said it, i think, a thousand times. And, the thing is, I'm probably going to keep on saying it; i miss Cordy. Some days, like today, it feels like she just died yesterday, and i wish ferverently that I could put my fingers around the bastard driver's neck and squeeze until she came back.
It's the one big hole in our state and definition of Happy. (being happy, in the world acording to Kurt and myself is not wanting to change anything about the situation a body is at that moment; not needing/wanting anything more, or less; being content. ) Given the choice, I'm not so sure I'd be able to pass up having her little golden head, her lean black body drinking the bathwater, or crapping on the floor.
What can I say? She was a puppy, she was just getting the hang of things, and she was Our Dog. Lucas loves Kurt, and the other way around, but Kurt is relatively new in our dynamic, and, for better, or worse, Lucas will always be My dog. Fida is Kurt's cat. I love her, of course, but the fact remains. Phoebe, for now, is our beloved Guest, and we've had many Beloved Guests. But Cordy, well, Cordy was Our dog, and we lost her, to stupidity, all the way around. Perhaps that's why the Family got under my skin as much as they did; they were not animal people. The Dad didn't understand the attachment; an animal must be functional, a utility, or it should be destoyed. Nothing could be simpler. And I'll probably never understand that. (Hell, I *pray* I won't. ) Animals, to me, are the only real innocents among us, even in their adulthood. Even when they're predators.
I don't think I can explain. There are lots of shitty human beings out there, but I've yet to see a dog that isn't a good dog, or a cat not a good cat, or any sort of animal that is not an exemplary example of that type of animal. 
