And yet another vivid dream, but this one involved someone who was lost, I think.
Roommate's cat likes to sleep with me. In my dream, I wanted to roll over, but something was crowding my legs. I muttered at the cat to move, and I realized the cat was against my hip. My dream told me there was a French bulldog named Berenice sleeping on my legs, and she was very peeved at having to move.
I have never met a French bulldog in real life, much less one named Berenice. I told her I was pleased to make her acquaintance, but if she wanted to share the bed she was going to have to let me roll over.
Brains are odd.
We were going to have a holiday gathering here today but the weather is funky and people are tired and just wanna chill so we cancelled. Instead of cleaning the house and shopping and cooking I am still sitting here in my jammies at 2 PM with dishes in the sink. I have done zero work on my many office projects either. I am sloth. I have also spent an appalling amount of time browsing Facebook which has been an emotional roller coaster of rage, optimism, depression, delight, and a dozen other feels.
I really need to do something productive. I think I shall start with a swim while it isn't storming.
It's weird to think about different paths in life sometimes. A few years ago, I saw an old coworker. We were both about six months into dating someone, and both thought it was about to be some kind of turning point.
I just saw a play about that. All the possible paths from a given moment in a relationship. Constellations. I recommend it.
Timelies all!
Con is over. Am exhausted.
I mainlined S2 of AHS over the last three days. Whoa.
Woke to the annual reading of the Declaration of Independence. Now heading to the pool. Barely awake. Ugh.
I think that qualified as a hate swim.
Poor dad: he's feeling so much better that he's starting bitching about the food again. It doesn't help that the doctor gave orders for him to get "mechanical soft", which means they chop or mash his food up.
So last night he walked out of the cafeteria without eating his dinner, and when we got there, announced he needed to move, and got pissy with us. Which no, that's a non-starter. So I'm going to call his doctor and pull the 'quality of life' card to see if I can get the food orders rescinded. He was certainly happy to eat his pizza by hand when we took him out.
Hopefully he'll be in a better mood today: I was having flashbacks to my mother's paranoia and anger.
So, as we were eating lunch just now, Casper commented that Dillo used to shout, while in the shower, "Penie wenie fuck sword blast!" and she would nearly die laughing in her adjacent bedroom. Dillo informed us that he was banishing the urine from getting on his feet when he peed in the shower by shouting this phrase. And now mr. flea wants to make it the password for our wifi network.
Happy Fourth of July!
