I am officially pissed now,..

My alarm is set for 6:30 am.  I was totally exhausted when I went to bed.

Why the #!@$#  can't I fall asleep???

It's really starting to IRK me.

 

 

Morning--So OF COURSE, I feel like SHIT.

Alarm went off at 6:30--I wanted to kill it. Kill myself. Explode the universe.

Instead, I got up.

I took my handful of meds and vitamins on an empty stomach--and instantly got a bad stomach ache--it isn't like I haven't done the very same thing 8 million times.

Now I'm at school. i have ONE HOUR to get my room spiffed up for the kids that will be coming in. Sigh. I had planned to be here by 7:30 at the latest. It is 9 am.

I am NOT PLEASED.

and the severe stomach ache is just the frosting on the cake.

GRRRR

10:05--Feeling Ghastly

I continue to feel like total shit.

My stomach is killing me.

I have come to the conclusion it must be the heat rather than the drugs--if it were just the drugs, I'd have puked them up by now.

I have perservered and got the unit binders onto the shelves (they were stacked by topic on the floor against the wall) and now I am attempting to get the units that I will be using in the fall placed into the bookshelf behind the desk--where they will be convenient to me when I'm actually teaching.

It feels like they've cranked the air conditioner down a few degrees, which helps--but not a lot.

I want to go home and soak in a tepid tub until I feel less horrid.

Then, I think, a nice long nap.

Bleah.

I am feeling less horrid.

Whatever it was that was making my stomach hurt so badly was repaired by three extended bouts of vomitting/dry heaves, an ice cream cone about an hour later to cool, coat, and settle my stomach, and an approximately 3 hour nap.  I almost feel human again.

So, during my three hour nap I have another one of those really long, highly detailed dreams. 

I dreamed I was living in a huge house--it had a double wide stairway to the basement--the basement was clean with a concrete floor and clean walls, no spider webs or damp crusties in view.  My washer and dryer were in the middle of the basement.  In the dream I had a bunch of laundry sorted. 

I dreamed I was wearing my short white sleeveless nightgown with the ruffle around the bottom and socks.  Nothing else.  I had to run out and move my car which was across the street the street was not paved.  Instead it was deep, rutted, squishy mud.  I ran across the street in my stocking feet, slipping and sinking in the mud and knowing as I did that my socks would NEVER be clean again. 

My cat--my dear and long departed son--had scampered out of the house and was chasing a big gray feather with another cat who looked a little bit like Tina, the cat I had eons ago that peed all over everything in the house.  I decided I would chase him AFTER I moved the car since i didn't want to walk across that muddy mess more often than I had to.  So, I did a U-turn and drove the car up onto my law to park in front of my door.  I kept an eye on both cats to be sure I didn't run over either of them. 

For some reason I went into my house--into the entry way--which was wide and rather elegant in a divine disabile manner.  I went to the basement where I kicked off my socks which were amazingly clean as were my feet.  Then I went up the wide stairway where there were some piles of laundry at the top of the stairs.  I kicked them into the basement and thought about how much nicer this was than my "old" house (which would be the one I am ACTUALLY living in).

When I went to my entrance and opened the door, there were a whole bunch of people standing on my soorstep.  Jane Chinn appeared to be the ring leader and was bouncing around with a huge smile pasted onto her face.  She said something about a late celebration to my birthday.  Someone was carrying a cake--and TWO people were dressed in gorilla suits.  One had the head on, the other did not.  The one without the gorilla head on was...Mickey Safranek, whom I haven't seen in BOO-COO years.  (Yes, I know that isn't how you spell it, I was being facetious.)

I was instantly aware (and embarrased) of the fact that I was just wearing my white pj.  Nothing else--including undergarments.  Eek. 

So, anyway, Mickey picked me up and gave me a HUGE hug and told me how long it had been since we'd seen each other.  I remember feeling impressed that the kids had gone so far back into my past to discover my old friends and invite them.  I also remember wondering how the heck they knew where or how to look for that information.

I hugged Mickey back and told him I loved him and how glad I was to see him, but that I had to get my cat who was on the loose.  There were a bunch of people milling about on the lawn, and I called, "Son!  Son!  Come here now!"  (I always called him "son.")  And of course the little pill wouldn't come.  He'd prance just close enough for me to a-l-m-o-s-t get my hands on him...but not be able to.  Something scared him and he started to run, and I ran after him, yelling, "NO, SON!!  NO!"

And some really old lady, skinny with a white curly helmet of hair on her head, yelled, "I'll get him!" and began chasing him down the street. 

I yelled, "NO!  Don't chase him!!"

But it did no good.  The idiot continued to chase him.  He ran through the street and started to run across a good sized puddle in the street--and disappeared.  I had the mental image of this puddle leading into a sewer system of some kind, and him falling in so deep that he'd be swept away and drowned.  I became extremely upset and started sobbing. 

I yelled at the old lady, "Why did you chase him when I told you NOT to, you stupid old cow??"

I think I may have pushed her as well.  :(

I kept going toward the puddle, but it was one of those weird dream things where you walk and walk and walk, but you NEVER get to the place you are going to, even though it is only like half a block away.

Some guy fished in the puddle to pull him out, and came up instead with the lifeless body of a child--it looked like about an 8 year old boy.  I screamed and cried more, knowing that my son was definitely drowned if it was deep enough to drown a child.

Then, I woke up.

On the whole, I have to say that the dream was not a good dream, but that it was VERY good to see my son alive again--even if it was only briefly.

I seldom get to hold or touch him in my dreams...but it is good to see him.

A dream of a nice snuggle with him would be...wonderful...sigh.

I was thinking today as I wrote about him in Carmen's journal that I hadn't dreamed of him in a very long time.  Now I have.

I love you, Son--wherever you are.

SMOOCH

 

 

Taking a Chance by EATING something...

I'd had nothing to eat since breakfast, all of which I offered up to the porcelain goddess earlier today, and I was feeling hungry...so I went foraging in the refrigerator and found some chicken and rice...So I'm taking a chance on a plateful.  It's pretty inoccuous.  All it is is brown rice with chicken tenders cooked in chicken broth with a little celery and onion cut up into it.  And a can of mushroom soup.

I sliced a nice inch long gash into my thumb's knuckle today, don't really understand how it happened--but I managed to slice it on my fabric scissors.  It hurts.

It didn't bleed much as I slapped a bandaid onto it immediately.

I finished off the second little pink gingham dress with the flowers on it...it turned out okay--though it has a little bunch in the back where the scissors snipped a bit out of the skirt.

I'm happy to announce that I have almost all of the little outfits that were cut out sewed.  I have only three pairs of blue outfits and four pairs of "red" outfits left.  Then I can start cutting and sewing two or three at a time again, and not be so back logged on outfits or dolls that I've sort of lost the notion for.  I don't think I will be sewing a lot for the Tutti sized dolls again in the near future.  I'm thinking it's the Skipper sized's turn now.

Though I really need to put my primary focus on going through the crap in my house and getting some writing done.  I want to write so much, yet when I sit down to do it, I find I have nothing to say.  It's BAD.

A very very BAD thing.

On a bright note, I got the mail today, put my check in the bank, and got my Tombs of Atuan audio tape book from Amazon!  Woot!!

The other two in the triology are back ordered.  Sigh.

Ah well.

It is high time for me to get off the computer and do a couple of needful things before crawling into my bed for the night--even though I want to crawl in NOW.

sigh.

bye

 

 

But OF COURSE I would be Robert Heinlein...who else??

 

Robert A. Heinlein
Beginning with technological action stories and progressing to epics with religious overtones, this take-no-prisoners writer racked up some huge sales numbers.

http://www.gning.org/skiffy.html