When does the crying end and the laughing start?

I'd like to say when it rains, it pours. However, considering there are 49-mph gusts and nonstop 30-mph wind that blew my umbrella inside out 6 times, drenched me until my coworkers began making the inevitable wet rat jokes, and turned my traction control on 4 times while traveling to/from work, etc., I think that'd be just a little too ironic - even for me. You know how I some times like to say "at some point things get so overwhelmingly bad that you can't even cry any more - you have to just laugh"?

Well, what I want to know is, when does the crying end and the laughing start?

In case I haven't mentioned it lately, Kona is usually a giant, major pain in my ass. I like to call him "Ko-no-no-na" because I think he hears the word "no" more often than he hears his own name. He is the sweetest, dumbest, happiest dog you'll ever meet - but bullies are complete creatures of routine and they will not turn loose of their own little "plan." When I came home last night and he was gimping all over for the 4th or 5th day in a row, I immediately scheduled a visit to the closest vet for first thing in the morning.

-Aside-
I'm sure, by now, that my bosses expect to get a message, call or email from me every single week that I've suffered from some bizarre illness or fallen victim to some freak disaster. I mean, for fuck's sake - I can't even take a vacation or sick day because my days all get allotted to bullshit. Since joining the company in February as a temp and then June as a direct hire, in addition to a few regular ol' days off for visiting my parents and FL 70.3, I've:

• had to re-schedule the closing on my house 4 (maybe 5) times
• lost almost a half-day at the courthouse trying to get my divorce decree, which was never finalized
• needed house repairs and had to meet the guy at my townhouse
• gotten ill because my medicine kept me up ALL night
• been in the hospital - and had the doctor suggest I rest 2 days - twice
• had my washer break
• had my A/C break
• gotten pregnant
• lost the baby
• had a puppy with a hurt leg

And that's just what they did know about.

Anyway. Puppies have these things in between their bones called "growth plates," just like baby humans, that are basically cartilege that grows into bones. So my (very anal-retentive and picky - in a good way!) vet tells me today that, although he thinks nothing's officially "fractured," he's worried ($) that Kona has cracked or dislocated a growth plate between his knee bones. Hard to tell from the x-rays, though, so he's sending me ($$) to an orthopedist, who may take more films ($) and potentially send Kona for surgery ($$$) because, if not, as a large breed dog, the bones may not grow right. This means, if the vet doesn't put a pin in his knee or something to that extent, the bones could fuse together or make one leg shorter than the other . . . causing him to be crippled for life. :(:(:(:(:( ????!!!!!!!

So, here I am . . .With no money left. . . And a phone that keeps breaking....And no patience left . . . And almost no will to even get off the sofa at night or get up in the morning . . .And my 3 best friends in the world are 2 short-haired tabbies and a brindle AmStaff . . . And a tropical storm ensuing from which my stupid fucking bosses won't excuse anyone from driving in the 30-50mph winds and driving rain . . .

And now I have to drive to work and pray I don't die while I save whatever money I can scrape up to keep one of them from potential lifelong gimphood.

I should be laughing right now, because there's just no way one woman can have all this happen to her at once. But it's me. And it does. And it has. And it isn't going to stop any time soon. So, this week we begin Project Kona Makes it Out Okay, Even if I Have to Lose My Car Insurance.

YAY, ME!