Mercury Retrograde: Sharing the Fuckery

This Mercury Retrograde has already been a bitch. 

Now, I know many of you are saying, "Hey, John, remember last summer when Mercury gave you an abject lesson in its retrograde when you were in the hospital with back problems for three days? Are you sure it's a good idea to start bitching about it again?" My response would be twofold. First, fuck you very much for bringing it up. Secondly...well, there is no second thing. LOL. 

I'm not going to sit up here and do what that idiot kid did a few summers ago. He called out Posiedon (Neptune) before he went out on a surfboard and a shark bit him on the ass. NOT EVEN KIDDING about that, folks. 

The plan is to detail some of the Mercury retrograde fuckery that I experienced today, and that's all. With the Lord and Lady as my witnesses, I'm not making the mistake of calling out Mercury. That would be most unwise, and as such I will not be cursing any deity. 

Anyway, with the disclaimer over, let's get around to the fuckery, shall we?

My beloved and I made an appointment for our oldest cat, Morgana--AKA Momo--to have her teeth cleaned at the vets this morning. If you're unfamiliar with how they do this, they put the cat under anesthesia and then clean the teeth. Because they're smart they also trim the claws first. Momo has been in serious need of some attention for a while. 

Our vet has one main hospital in the area that does 24-hour emergency service, and is overall an amazing place. We've taken our cats there for nearly 10 years now. Recently, however, they opened up a satellite office near our home, and we were really stoked about it because it's a lot closer to us than the hospital. The satellite's vet hours are limited because the facility is primarily a boarding facility for dogs and cats when their owners are away on vacation. Normally they only have someone on the vet staff there from 4-9pm about half the week. 

So it's the night before this appointment, and it's about 5:30pm and I haven't heard anything from the vet's office about what time to bring Momo in, when we should stop feeding her, etc. So I call them. "So glad you called! I was going to call you later!" is the response from the tech. I'm thinking "Sure you were." We're told to bring Momo in between 7 and 8 the next day, and that we'll be able to pick her up that afternoon. 

Everything on our end goes according to plan. Alarms go off when they're supposed to, and we put an unsettled Morgana into her carrier for the short trip to the vet. When we get there around 7:45, there's no one working the "vet" side of the desk; normally you can tell because a vet tech with a stethoscope is out waiting to check in vet appointments, while other people not in scrubs will check in the boarding animals. We're not surprised since their first office visit is at 4:00pm. So we tell a lady at the boarding center that we're here to check in Morgana for her dental work. 

[NOTE: Please understand that while the cat is not thrilled to be here, neither are the humans. Jen HATES dropping off our animals at the vet and leaving there; she's always nervous until we bring them home, and I can't really blame her.]

Now this place is crazy. Today is the Friday before a big vacation week, so everyone is dropping off their dogs. Let me say that checking my cat in is NOT on the top of their agenda. I fill out some paperwork, and hand it back in. We sit there a little longer until the lady says, "Can I have someone take this dog back to the clinic?" I'm thinking "She's not talking about Momo." And yet she WAS...the handler came out looking for a dog and stopped at our little carrier. We had to explain that Momo was a CAT, not a dog. The guy seemed confused, but finally took Momo back to the clinic. So we left. 

Jen came to visit my office later that morning, and we had lunch together afterward. At the restaurant she left her phone out waiting to hear from the vet, but there's no call. She brings me back to the office, and I call her at 1 or so; there's still been no word from the vet, and our friends and family have been texting her, asking how Momo is doing. Of course, we have no idea at this point, and it's making Jen very unsettled. 

I call home again around 3:10, but Jen doesn't pick up. I'm guessing it's because the vet called. A few minutes later she calls me back, irritated. Jen had become impatient and called the office for word about Momo. At least this time, the people at the front desk put Jen through to the vet. 

The first thing out of the vet's mouth is "Hey, I apologize, I thought the other vet had already called you!" And I'm thinking "someone didn't bother to find out, did they?"Good news: Momo was indeed fine, and she was recovering. So the vet goes over the procedure, and the care and feeding for Momo for the next week or so as she heals up. No communication problem here, right? Not yet. 

Part of communication is knowing when to speak and when to shut the fuck up. Well, this vet should have known when to shut up. But NO. He has to say to Jen, "She'll be glad to get home. She's been terrified the whole time she's been here." 

Those of you who know Jen probably know what she was feeling next. She was pissed that Momo was so scared, and disappointed that the vet said we had to wait for 90-120 minutes before we went to bring her home after we found out that our cat was really upset. So Jen calls me back, angry and unsettled at the news. WHY THE FUCK DID HE HAVE TO SAY MY CAT WAS TERRIFIED? IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS THAT A GOOD IDEA?? Douchebag. 

The only positive to the scenario was that we couldn't get Momo until I got home from work, so I went and picked up Jen and we both went to get Momo. 

Even though it felt like 3 days had passed, we were back at the vet to pick up Momo. Of course, lots of people are leaving on vacation after work, so the place is even busier than it had been that morning. Once again, there's no vet tech on the "vet" side of the desk, so we ask the woman behind the counter to help us as we tell her why we're here. She looks around and says she'll let the vet people know we're here. So she does...NOTHING. 

That's right. She doesn't tell anyone we are here. She just continues to check dogs in for the pet retreat. And for ten minutes we sat there watching dog after dog come through the door as we're wondering what in the blue fuck is going on and when we'll actually be able to take our cat home. I'm starting to get pissed. Jen's already pissed, and I'm ready to tear someone a new one and say, "HEY FUCKTARDS! YOU'VE HAD MY CAT ALL DAY! SHE'S SCARED AND HUNGRY AND WE JUST WANT TO TAKE HER HOME! CAN SOME MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS PLACE DO THAT?"

Of course, they're giving a golden retriever back to his mommy and he decides to jump up on both Jen and I, and the dog almost tore open Jen's Coach purse. Of course, the dog's mom is like "I'm sorry." Well technically it wasn't your fault because this idiot handler over here knows nothing about how to lead a dog at all. 

Finally, just before I decide that someone, anyone should get a verbal assault so severe it will take a week before they realize how badly I've insulted them, a vet tech comes out, saying she didn't know we were here. IMAGINE THAT. We got into an examining room and the tech hands us the prescriptions and instructions for Momo's care. She asked us if the doctor had spoken to us on the phone, and we said yes, we understood what we were doing. So she explains it to us ANYWAY. And we still don't have our cat. 

FINALLY, Momo is brought back to us, and we're just excited to have her back. Then the vet comes out and tells us how everything went and repeats some of the care instructions. So at this point we've had it explained three times and we have a sheet with the instructions. WE FUCKING GET IT!! I was wondering if he was going to talk to me about the cover sheets on my TPS reports or something. Luckily I had calmed down enough to speak to the doctor in my own voice and not like Tim the Enchanter from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. 

This is why we call retrograde about re-tool, re-do, and re-task. It seemed like it was Groundhog Day or something. 

Momo is home safe and sound, and I'm glad for that. If you've got any Mercury retrograde stories you want to share, I'd love to hear them. It's already been a challenge and it just started on Wednesday. 

Time for some ice cream and a relaxing weekend. And what am I doing now? Communicating this. Hopefully Mercury will allow me to post it without any problems.