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A friend of ours in NC just rescued a momma cat (all black) and five young babies (three black, two grey). The babies are three weeks old. Of course he's posting all the adorable pics on FB, and asking for adopters, once the babies are old enough.

Randy and I pretty much immediately said, "We're not ready for another gray cat." And it goes without saying that we're not getting a black cat while we have Trixie.

Truth is, I think we're both in agreement that when we do get another cat, it'll be an adult FIV cat, one whose personality we already know well.

But not for a good long while. We're enjoying spoiling our three with different wet foods and treats that they couldn't have because Mei-mei couldn't have them. :)

It still hits me from time to time that Mei-mei's gone. I'm pretty much used to her absence now, but every once in a while, I look at my other cats and miss the things that were unique to her. She was the only one who loved belly rubs and rolling onto her back in my lap. Only she licked my face as we fell asleep. She slept on my neck, right over my sternum, or anywhere around my head. She didn't mind being picked up or having her paws or tail touched. She mothered me -- "come to bed!" "take a break right now!" None of the other cats do these things. (Well, Corky does yell at me to go to bed.)

But it's not fair to Frank, Corky and Trixie to compare them to Mei-mei and define them by what they are not. They're all beautiful, unique, fascinating cats with their own habits and quirks that Mei-mei didn't do. For instance, Mei-mei never demanded attention during laundry time. (That's Trixie). Mei-mei never turned to mush when she got picked up (that's Corky). Mei-mei never had a hair tie obsession (Frank). And so many other things that define each cat on his or her own merits.

Still, I miss my little neck-cuddling, face-licking, belly-rubbing, mothering cat. So much. I want that level of snuggly closeness again, but I don't want to disrupt the balance we have right now. We've got three wonderful kitties and I love and respect them too much to alter their home life any time soon.

Apr. 11th, 2015

Today started out pretty low. We had a nice breakfast at a place in Buckhead, but somewhere a switch got turned off in my head and I started getting all depressed about stuff. That stayed with me until we got home and Randy left for work. I took a nap and then tried to work for a while, but was just feeling really down and lost.

Finally, I stood up and said, "NO." Read more...Collapse )

Felt really good to get outside and accomplish something. It was 3 pm when I came back in; I had to leave my shoes by the door because they were soaked (and yet my feet were completely dry. Good shoes!) and brush off all the water on my pants. Note: My pants are great for blocking water mist, but a straight shot with the hose -- no. Good to know.

Also, I'm well aware that pollen season has only just started, and everything out there will be coated in yellow by tomorrow. But that can be rinsed off, as long as the grime underneath is gone.

So, yay. Did something. Got some sun, some air, some activity. And I feel better.

Now I can't wait to get new chair cushions.

I need a fashion and a makeup consultant.

I need to hire people to do these things, preferably people around my own age, who have experience working with my particular needs (over-40 skin, hooded eyelids and puffy eyes, a specific taste in clothes). Figuring out this crap from fashion magazines and the internets is a study in frustration.

For instance. I have this olive green maxi skirt. I have no idea what to pair it with. It seems that it would work well with a printed top, maybe something that has a combo of coral and olive, plus white/black/neutrals. But it can't be (a) sleeveless; (b) too floral; (c) short on the hem; (d) anything having to do with animal prints; or (e) a fake fabric that feels weird on the skin. I would prefer (a) knit, so there's some stretch; (b) graphic as opposed to floral; (c) more than a cap sleeve. I don't mind if it's a layering piece as long as I have the appropriate colored tank or cami under it.

I tried on this peasant top that had all the right colors. It was kinda busy in the design, but I tried it anyway. Ohmygawdno. that was awful. The square yoke (which I usually like) hit me all wrong, made me look like I was wearing a bib over a bedsheet. And it was this weird crepe polyester that had no stretch and was kinda scratchy on the skin. I'd rip that thing off me in two hours.

What else goes with olive? I can't wear yellow or bright orange; coral is as close as I can get, and it can't be too pale. I don't wear white, unless it's a tank that I can wear under something else. Maybe rust? I'm sure a pale grey or tan would be fine. That's why I'd be okay with a solid colored top but that has a cool texture.

As for makeup, I'd really love to have someone teach me the easiest possible method of applying the least amount of (cruelty free) makeup (designed for sensitive skin/eyes) for the best, most long-lasting effect. And how do I work around this scar on the corner of my right eye? There's this crater right where the wing of a nice cat-eye eyeliner would go. I also have hooded lids, crow's-feet, and big circles and puffs under my eyes.

I won't lie, I've been tempted by permanent makeup, just so I don't have to do anything.

Fashion is hard when you've avoided it for twenty years. Maybe I'll just do 1980s makeup. It's back in style, right?

Totally name-dropping an actor buddy

Another all-nighter tonight. 'Sokay. I just have to color six pages by the morning. It's 1 am. Let's see if I can do it.

Had a wonderful two evenings seeing Scott Adsit be a guest with the Dad's Garage improv crew. This is SO name-droppy and I feel kinda weird about it, but dang it, where else am I gonna drop a name?


Several years ago, two friends of ours got to be good buddies with Scott Adsit. He's a huge comics nerd, and he met my friends Mark & Lisa (Mark's a comic artist). I don't know how this introduction came about -- maybe Scott contacted Mark about some artwork? Then Mark & Lisa visited the 30 Rock set? I dunno. Anyway, Scott came to a couple of subsequent comic conventions at Mark's behest, and he just sorta got sucked into our group of buddies. Of course we welcomed him with open arms as One Of Us. Our friends have done sketches for him in his sketchbook, etc. So really, he's just a huge fanboy who happens to be an actor/comedian.

I think I first met him at HeroesCon in 2009...? I do remember that he and I walked around Artists' Alley in SDCC in 2010, that much I know for sure. He's just a totally down to earth guy, witty of course, but also has a lot going on in his brain all the time. Always considering and observing, very sharp.

So anyway. It's been a few years since he's been able to make it to conventions; since 30 Rock ended, his project schedule has been constantly changing, and he's been traveling a lot. I heard through another friend that he was in town to guest-improv at Dad's Garage for two nights, so I immediately snatched up tickets for both nights, and Randy and I went.

Of course the performances were great. There was a short-form first half, which wasn't supposed to involve Scott, but he jumped in anyway, and then a long-form second half with the more experienced improv actors. Both nights were great. I think my favorite was the interpretive dance to Seal's "Kiss from a Rose." I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard a couple of times.

After Friday night's performance, we waited to meet Scott. I was worried that he might not remember/recognize us. (I have this fear all the time because (a) I don't think I'm memorable in any way and (b) I forget people all the time.) But as soon as he came out from backstage, he spotted me and ran over and said "LAURA!!" and gave me a bear hug. Then he saw the others in our group -- hugs all around.

Our group of six (Randy and me, Adam and Allison, and Cliff and Katie) went over to the Porter Beer Bar and had late dinner. Scott came over a bit afterward, with a big group of cast & crew from Dad's Garage, but he ended up sitting with us for the rest of the evening.

After Saturday's performance, Randy and I waited again, but we had no intention of staying for a meal or anything. Still, we probably hung out in the lobby for a good hour after the show; Scott and one of the regular improv-ers were discussing craft and Second City and all sorts of interesting stuff. We also met Scott's sister, bro-in-law, mother, and a couple of nephews. Really nice people.

So anyway. I shouldn't have gone out twice, not with the deadlines I'm having, but we did anyway, and now I have to get this book done PRONTISSIMO because we desperately need paychecks. :/


It's been a hell of a few days.

Sorry, this is going to be long, and I don't want to put it behind a cut.

It was 10:30 pm on Monday night. I was getting ready to push through an all-nighter to get a book done, when Randy came upstairs with my iPhone. "Joe is trying to reach you," he said. Why is Joe calling at 10:30 pm? Must be urgent. I called him back.

"Do you know what's going on with Jeremy and Kelly?" he asked. No, I didn't. I knew that Joe had been visiting someone in the hospital, but I didn't know who. He filled me in quickly that it was Jeremy he had been visiting, and that he and Kelly had deliberately chosen to be very private about Jeremy's health condition.

And then, in a tumble of words and tears, Joe said that Jeremy just passed away.

Jeremy. Jeremy who is 35, goofy, laid-back, always fun to hang out with, never a negative guy, and one-half of the Jeremy-and-Kelly dynamic duo. Jeremy of the creator-owned, all-ages book "Skyward." Jeremy who loves dogs and singing and friends and kids and videogames and comics and movies and just hanging out. Jeremy who was an actual, bona fide, decent Christian. Jeremy who had a studio just down the hall from me, and shared crappy meals and all-nighters. That Jeremy suddenly ceased to exist.

Joe asked us to come to the hospital. Randy got dressed and we headed there immediately. Joe met us downstairs, and the first thing I said was, "Joe, I don't understand this." Joe explained the health situation. We knew a couple of weeks ago that Jeremy had Con Crud, or some kind of bad cold or flu. Late last week he had weakness in his legs and was very dehydrated, so Joe insisted on taking him to the hospital. Tests didn't indicate anything shocking. He was recovering okay. Then suddenly, on Monday night, he couldn't breathe and was rushed to ICU, where he died of a massive coronary.

Joe told us all this while standing outside the hospital. Within minutes, Adam and Allison arrived. We all went upstairs together, and waited while Joe went to Jeremy's room to see if Kelly was ready for friends. The nurse said that Kelly had instructed to send us down to the room immediately.

We went to the room, walked past the curtain, and...this is the part that I did not expect...Jeremy's body was still in the room. I'll admit to being horrified that MY FRIEND WAS RIGHT THERE. Right there, not breathing, pale and weird and...deflated. Half-swallowed by the hospital gown and the bed. Tubes and things in his face. What the HELL. Wasn't there some rule with hospitals that they whisk the body away? Why is he still HERE?! It was all wrong. All wrong. I hate that this image is in my head.

Allison held a sobbing Kelly for a few minutes. Then Randy and I hugged Kelly, and I was dimly aware that Allison was whispering words over Jeremy's body. I don't remember what we said to Kelly or anything, but eventually she got a phone call from a family member, so Randy and I exited the room so she could have a little privacy. We congregated outside and talked quietly for a while in the hall.

After a little bit, Allison, Kelly and Meghan moved down the hall to an empty room, while the guys and I stood outside Jeremy's door and talked among ourselves about how we could raise money or do things to help Kelly out. Eventually, we all migrated to the room down the hall.

Kelly was in total shock, responding when spoken to, but clearly in a fog of "what the hell just happened". She was trying to get in touch with family members; meanwhile, we talked about nothingness and nonsense, telling silly stories to make everyone laugh. In fact, we got a bit too loud for the neighboring rooms and the nurse had to come tell us to keep it down. The nurses came in and gave Kelly some information on what to do next. None of us knew that step, so that was helpful.

At one point, she got a call from her parents, who were the last ones to be informed. It was hard sitting in that room listening to Kelly break the news to her mom. We could hear her mom crying over the phone. Kelly assured her that she was surrounded by friends, and she wouldn't be alone, and they would talk the next day. What a rock Kelly is. She defaulted to her business-voice and held it all together. I would've been a sobbing wet mess.

We were at the hospital for about three hours, and sorted out where Kelly and her dog Kirby would be for the next few days. Eventually Kelly said that she needed to sleep, so she went back to Jeremy's room to say her goodbyes again. Randy and I went in and had a final moment with Jeremy's body, and Randy had to remind me that this body lying in the bed wasn't Jeremy, this was a shell. I didn't know what to say to this shell. Words felt so inadequate.

We went back out to the hallway, and while others were taking their turns paying their respects, Randy held me tight and said, "I'm going to take care of myself. I'm going to get healthy because I don't want to put you through this." I thanked him over and over, because honestly, among our group of friends, I have really expected either Randy or Adam to be the first to go. But not for at least another decade. And it wasn't supposed to be a guy younger than us.

We eventually went home and I gave up on working that night. I needed sleep too.

Yesterday I worked for most of the day, then we went over to Adam & Allison's for coffee and food. It turned into a sort of Irish wake. Most of us got tipsy; a few got plain drunk, and we got to laughing SO HARD over ridiculous stories. We always laugh when we're together, but this was cathartic, braying, breathless laughter.

Kelly was more present in the discussion; she laughed with us and told embarrassing convention stories and shared in the silliness. When she needed a moment, she and someone would go out onto the back porch to discuss the serious things quietly, while the more lighthearted conversation (and alcohol) was studiously maintained around the dining room table. We each got a chance to spend a little time with Kelly. I held her hand and put my arm around her while she and Chris and Joe talked about the business of death -- talking to creditors, putting obituaries in papers, getting copies of death certificates. It was good that Chris was there, because he's the only one of us who has dealt directly with the death of a loved one, and the aftermath. He had a lot of insight that none of us had even thought about.

But mostly we laughed like hyenas until we couldn't breathe and tears streamed down our faces.

Randy and I got home around 11 pm last night. Again, the plan was for me to get back to work, but again it didn't happen. Neither did sleep. I lay awake, with a cat snoring in my ear and another one demanding attention, and my back (which I tweaked the other day) screaming at me. At 4 am I got up and went downstairs and played an iPad game for a while, then read a couple chapters of "The Road Less Traveled". It was about 5:30 am when I had to decide between going to the gym to join a group class, or going back to bed. I chose the latter, completely ignored the alarm clock, and slept in until 9:30.

And now I'm back at work. Now I think I can handle just sitting here and working until the work is done. Allison and Meghan are with Kelly, sorting out funeral arrangements. That's today's plan. We'll probably get back together again tonight to touch base and probably laugh more. If I get enough work done, I might throw together a couple of pans of lasagna to feed the crowd. Or maybe that'll be tomorrow's plan. I don't know. I want to help. I feel like I'm not doing enough; I'm just...there. But maybe that IS enough. For now.

As if this wasn't enough...Kelly just lost her job on Thursday, and she has to be out of her apartment at the end of the month. Talk about massive suckage! She just got this job, and was excelling at it, but they let her go after 90 days. On top of THAT, she and Jeremy's lease was up and they were looking for a new place to live. She has to be out of her apartment by the end of November. home, no job, and now, no husband. I can't even wrap my brain around it.

Randy and I discussed it, and we offered our house to Kelly if she needs a place to live bills-free for a while. We've got the room. We've got the yard for Kirby. She can have the guest bedroom, or we can clear out the whole downstairs, and she can take Randy's office and the den as her and Kirby's space. We are totally prepared to have her live with us for as long as she needs. Will the cats and Kirby get along? We'll deal with it somehow.

Meanwhile, a gofundme campaign was set up immediately, and it's already raised close to $10,000 to help Kelly with hospital bills and such. The outpouring of love and sympathy from the comics community has been overwhelming. So many people have been posting photos of Jeremy on FB that it's really helping to scrub that final image out of my head. But it's also hard to see him so alive and funny (he had a knack for photobombing and making hilarious faces in every photo), over and over and over. So I'm avoiding Facebook for now.

I'm also nursing a headache. Don't know if it was the booze or the raucous laughter, but it's okay. I don't resent a headache caused by too much laughter.

There are many more friends of Jeremy and Kelly's in the Atlanta area, but they all have kids and jobs, and we haven't gotten together yet. I really hope that, even if the funeral isn't this weekend, maybe we can at least gather for an impromptu memorial with the gang.

Suddenly all my navel-gazing about how hard life is, is put into sharp focus. Screw my personal BS. It's all nonsense. This -- this is real, and it sucks, and it's a huge blow, and nothing else matters but helping Kelly.

Successful first-time backpacking!

I had signed up for a Beginner's Backpacking trip with the Trail Dames, an Atlanta-based group of women hikers of varying experience levels. I figured, hell, if I'm going to go do this, I'd rather be with people who have done this a lot, so I can learn things.

The Long Story!Collapse )

So that was it. It was fun. My lips got chapped, my hips and legs are still sore, my pinchy finger is healing up now, and I learned so much. It was really, really fun.


Laundry semi-renovation

Hello, headache, my old frenemy. I wonder what brought you here today? Dehydration? The change in drugs? Too much exertion and dust last night?

Speaking of exertion and dust: Randy has got a total bug up his butt about renovating the laundry room. It's got really old, gross paint color, old cabinets, and old linoleum. So last night, after getting off work at 10 pm, he went downstairs and tore down the cabinets over the washer/dryer. Yeah, at midnight. They took some doing; they were screwed into the studs pretty hard, and done yeeeears ago, so the three of the eight screws were impossible to get out. Eventually he tore the cabinets apart. So much for trying to take the cabinets down in one piece and recycling them. Maybe someone will come and claim the pieces of wood; other than some nail holes and some torn-up parts, it's good stuff and could make a nice smaller cabinet.

In the process, we discovered the layers of color that the laundry room had been in its many years. Before it was this current Clairol liquid foundation color, it was bright green; and before that...

I was out of the room when Randy took down the first part of the cabinet that was against the back wall. I heard him groan, "Oh GAWD," and I thought, crap! Carpenter ants! Roaches running everywhere! Dead mice! Black mold!...because i've seen waaaay too many DIY shows.

I said, "What? What?!" as I walked into the room and saw what he was seeing: this clear rectangle of odd green swirly stuff where the cabinet had been.

"Is that mold?" he exclaimed.

"I don't think so," I mused, " it wood glue?" I checked the back of the cabinet and didn't see a matching pattern. Then it dawned on me -- "It's WALLPAPER!"

We both looked hard at it. It was exceptionally fugly, but it was a repetitive pattern, and there were seams. Yep, wallpaper. And it was undoubtedly from when the house was built in 1964.

I went up and touched it, and immediately shied away. "It's FLOCKED wallpaper! Gross!"

Yeah. Flocked green swirly abstract wallpaper. Eeyugh. Luckily, it peeled off very easily, leaving us with just the drywall to prime and paint.

Unfortunately, the paint that's all over the rest of laundry room (including window frame and ceiling!) is so thick that it's coated the hinges on the other cabinets. We tried to unseal them, but to no avail. The cabinets open and close just fine, but the hardware's the same color as the cabinets. If we had all the time in the world, we might take some solvent and scrapers and a heat gun to it to get down to the bare wood, but that's not happening right now. Maybe when we move out we'll do it right.

In the meantime, Randy's going to clean the walls tonight. Tomorrow morning he will prime, and tomorrow night, paint the room a nice clean glossy white. The new dryer arrives on Monday. I wish we could get the peel-and-stick vinyl tiles that we want before the dryer goes in, but we can't, so we'll just get an indoor/outdoor rug to hide the old linoleum for now. Then we'll go to Ikea and get a much better cabinet system for over the w/d.

So really, it's a half-reno. But it's something, and BOY am I ready to see that awful foundation-flesh color go away. It occurred to me that it was the same color that used to be in my office when we first moved in! *shudder*

Creepy House Next Door

I have update on the Creepy House Next Door that seems to be in the process of being swallowed whole by the surrounding flora.

I texted the owner on Saturday. She said she'd get back to me today or tomorrow, but so far, nothing. No surprise.

On the advice of one of the neighborhood watch people, I contacted the sergeant who oversees our fair city's Code Enforcement department. He emailed me back and said he'd get the officer who handles that property to give me a call on Monday. And so Officer Moulton did -- he called me today. The house is kinda-sorta under contract. Someone's trying to buy the land for $40K (wow, really? I thought she wanted $95K) and flip the property, but when he got in it, he determined that structurally, the place isn't salvageable. So he got another investor involved in the purchase with the intent of tearing the building down and maybe rebuilding on the lot. There was a delay with finding paperwork on a lien, and blah blah blah...

Whatever the case is, this officer wrote $1000 in code violations tickets since January, and the owner paid them all, and that's all he can do at this point since she lives in another state. He called her today to get an update, but hadn't heard back by the time he called me. If he doesn't hear back from her (or hopefully the new owner) in the next two weeks, he'll start writing tickets again. Meanwhile, he told me to save his cell number and call him anytime if I see anything weird going on over there.

I personally am worried about a particular tree that's looming over my office from her yard. I wonder if anyone would care if I had that tree taken down, on my own dime. The wood could stay in the yard for all I care; I just don't want this sick, rotting, English-ivy-strangled tree within one bad windstorm of crushing my office or my bedroom. If I can reach Miri, I'll ask her if it's okay. She's bound to say yes as long as she doesn't have to pay for it.

Now I have this amazing idea...if it weren't for my insane work schedule and the fact that I don't have the money to do this, or any experience at all with haunted would be so fun (and not difficult at all) to turn that house into a haunted house for Halloween. OMG. That would be so fantastic. There are already so many rumors about what's been in there; not much of a creative leap to build delightfully terrifying scenarios out of those rumors. And then they can tear it down on November 1.

As usual on deadlines...

...I find myself searching the interwebs for the Next Career Move. You might remember my delve into forensic arts from a few years ago; I'm still fascinated by forensic science, particularly the specialties like shoe pattern analysis, etc. But it's not something I think I can form a career on without a lot of schooling in a completely different direction. Still, i've got these books on forensic arts, so y'know, maybe I'll read 'em sometime.

Prior to that was, "I want to do something with animals." Maybe animal rescue or rehab or behavior or something. Sure, that's still a possibility, in some form. But it's too vague of a goal. I have to narrow that down. For a week or so there, I wanted to be Jackson Galaxy, but...that's more about human psychology and human behavior, than animal behavior. Can't I just get a job playing with baby platypuses at my local zoo? :)

Oh yeah, let's not forget environmentalism, Tiny Homes, off-grid living, yard gardening, communal living, and all those anti-corporate/anti-Monsanto/anti-Big Oil things that get me so fired up sometimes. I'm not sure if "hippie" is a job description, though, and I have to be honest; I suck at gardening. So there's that drawback.

The most recent chapter of Where Do I Want to Be In Five Years is working for a national or state park. I don't know in what capacity; just something where I can be in a park as my day job. Today I found "Mile...Mile and a Half" on Netflix, and I won't kid, I was crying at the beauty of it, and immediately started searching for real estate near the John Muir Trail.

Let's explore this possibility for a minute. There's a long road between where I am right now and actually becoming a ranger or something. There are a lot of things I need to figure out first, like:

1) Can I actually backpack for more than a day or two?

Right now, I've only car-camped once, and it was fun, but it was not as physically challenging or as removed from civilization as real backpacking. (TBH, it was physically challenging; the 8-mile hike and fall by the river really killed my knee.) I need to get out there and experience True Wilderness Living -- pooping in the woods, dealing with being dirty and sweaty all the time, making fires, dealing with bugs and wildlife, packing in and out all my food, etc. -- and see if I actually enjoy it, or if I'm too much of a suburban girl. Will my old injuries slow me down? Will my skin issues wreak havoc?

2) Do I have the physical strength to handle the workload of being a ranger?

No, I don't. Not right now. I did a few years ago, but then there were the injuries. So that's something I'm going to have to work around -- or work with -- for a year or so to prep for possible physical labor.

3) Do I have friends who are also interested in working for state/national parks?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. One friend, jwaneeta, is pretty serious about it, or was when we last talked. Another, bananamanager, might be talked into it, but she's got her own five year plan that she's working on and it hinges on her partner's career. I desperately want to form some sort of future plan that includes her, because we work so well together, but our partners come first. Their current and immediate-future circumstances have to dictate our plans.

4) What requirements do I need to meet to qualify for a ranger?

A bachelor's degree in forestry, environmental sciences, or similar. This much I do know. And the requirements change based on the state in which I live, if I'm working at a state park. So, I have to consider going back to school, and all the vagaries of that.

5) What can I do in the meantime to prepare myself for future schooling, work, etc.?

First up, I need to get up to strength to handle physical labor. I have to do that very slowly and carefully so I can avoid injury, which set me way back over the last year. Then, when I'm physically ready, I can then volunteer for Volunteer Vacations, which would be an excellent way to see what it's like to physically work at a park.

6) Can I afford to make a drastic career change?

Nope. Not at the mo. We are still carrying a mortgage and car payment, a fair amount of credit card debt, not to mention the money I owe my parents. We're nowhere near where we should be for retirement. All these things MUST be dealt with before I add on any school costs. So...I work. I work and work. But I'm not working smart, and that's where I really think we need to reconsider the path we're on.

The thing is, I'm 42, creeping up fast on 43. The longer I wait to get going on these plans, whatever they may be, the older and less capable I'll be do them. I hate getting older, but look at how long I've been complaining about wanting a career change. Right?!

Meanwhile...I should probably be aiming this focus at my deadline, and not at this thing right now. It's the only way through.
(Cross-posted from Facebook, but with cuts for length.)

What a terrible night of dreams.

Dream #1: Just a hint of stressCollapse )

At this point, I woke up for some reason. Don't remember why.

Dream #2: Now with 50% more stress!Collapse )

I woke up again because Frankie, our 19-lb cat, kept walking over me. Also, I had a stuffy nose and gross cotton mouth, and had to go brush my teeth. This was around 4 or 5 am.

Dream #3, part 1: Enter more stress, stage rightCollapse )

By now it was 7 am and my alarm was going off. In between slaps of the snooze button, the thread of the dream-story was still there, but it was now changing locations and people.

Dream #3, parts 2 and 3: 100% pure organic stress!Collapse )

Apparently, I do not have subtle, mysterious dreams that need to be decoded. Oh no. My dreams have all the subtlety of a shark gnawing on my leg.



some day huh

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