Son OF A BITCH!

On the commute home this evening, my car was struck. I was changing lanes, had plenty of room, was pretty much 2/3 into the lane when the cockbite in the Ford Pickup decided there was room for two cars and that he just didn't need to care what happened. He struck the mirror and side of my car. I pulled over, but he apparently never knew what happened and kept going, yakking away on his cell phone. Oblivious to everything that wasn't about him and his conversation.

Thankfully, the damage is very minimal. The right side mirror frame is cracked, but the mirror itself is fine. No side damage that I can see.

I merged back into traffic and got into the exit lane, as I did so I managed to pass the dickface that hit me. I couldn't get a plate number memorized, but sure enough he was still gabbing on the phone in the classic 'lean against the window, gab away ont he phone, keep one finger on the steering wheel (optional), and don't give redneck shit about any other car on the road' pose.

In other news, SaraBelle had a bloodcount yesterday and got a couple of pills that cost 10$ each. Fortunately, she only has to take two of them, one per day. Of course, this means that she is up to 6 pills a day. Plus the vet wants me to put eyedrops in her bad eye. One medication might be replaced with a tasty treat. They gave me some samples for her to try and she gobbled them right up.

I'm really concerned that SaraBelle seems downright listless. Maybe its the nausea from the chemo, but she seems to plant herself on the couch or blanket, curls into a ball, and stays there for a very long time sleeping. This generally means the most contact I have with her is when she is being given her meds. Not good.

Due to the lovely weather, the being struck, and having a cold (STILL!), I have skipped fencing practice tonight. I'm going to forget how to hold the damn sword at this rate.