I thought that making the decision to have my 12-year old cat put to sleep was hard. I thought the hardest part would be following through with it. I thought if I just got through it, my spontaneous bursts into tears would end.

I was wrong.

The first night wasn’t bad. Alcohol and the company of friends helped. What started as a way for The Boyfriend and I to forget what we’d just been through (yes, he stayed with Mickey and me through the end) ended up being a good evening with good people who made us laugh. And as weird as this is to say, I have a whole new appreciation for The Boyfriend now, because he gets me. He gets how I deal with things, which is to say that he doesn’t judge me for the twisted comments I make when I’m hurting. So, that was the first night.

The second day was horrible. I had to work. Correction: I had to show up at work and pretty much stand around uselessly. Fortunately, nearly everyone I work with is an animal lover and there was considerable understanding. Which is good, because I cried in the shower, I cried while I was getting ready for work, I cried in the car on the way to work and I cried as soon as I saw TOTO once I got to work. And the rest of the night was a series of crying bursts. And then I cried myself to sleep.

The third day was a little better. I teared up in the shower. I cried a little bit at work. I didn’t cry on the way home because I was talking to my mother and venting about something that I cannot and will not discuss here. And then I got home and vented to my son and The Boyfriend. But I cried myself to sleep.

And then it was Thursday. The shower was still a little iffy. (Mickey used to jump up on the side of the tub and pace along the outside of the curtain, waiting for me to finish so she could drink out of the faucet.) But then I arrived at work and found a message from my boss’ boss to come see her. I had a pretty good idea why and I turned out to be right.

I have a new job!

(Now you get why I called this post “Extremes,” right?)

A woman in the Interlibrary Loan department is leaving next month and I answered the email asking if anyone was interested in taking over her position. I really didn’t think I’d get it, because where seniority is concerned, I’m at the bottom of the list. But no one else expressed interest in moving from their current positions. Since we’re all the same classification, it’s a lateral move for everyone and there’s probably not a lot of incentive. It does have incentives for me; learning something new about how the library functions is top of the list, but getting out of circulation is up there as well (I’ve been feeling a little burned out on the customer service front lately, so a change will be nice). I’ll also be back on days, which has its good points and not so good points. Good is that I’ll be able to watch football on Sundays next fall. Not so good is that The Boyfriend and I will be on different schedules again. But he works four days to my five, so that’s not going to be a huge issue.

Either way, what started off as a horrible week ended on a much brighter note. Still, even though I spent all of Thursday evening in a great mood, even though I crawled into bed with a smile on my face that night, it didn’t stop me from thinking about Mickey.

And I still cried myself to sleep.

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