dreamed

with a friend who'd printed out some necessary online information and a whole huge whopping chunk of my livejournal for information necessary for something Darkside was doing. old friend from camp, the other half of the laurel/abbot, hardy/costello pair. we re-met, her with me, in a swimming pool in the gym of my elementary school, with mondo rules for its use. trying to teach kids to use it properly, a great big foam diving platform. darkside hadn't read the livejournal yet, but he said he would, right then. she'd printed it out with the other information on top, and that's all he'd used so far, but he was going to read it. (same universe as most of the other dreams in the pearl creek gym) but before he could, with me watching...

the color security rankings of Paranoia and an artificial world inside a great big warehouse. no computer. i was wearing the wrong colors to try and escape. someone tried to run me over.

i was a movie star, blond and famous, and i had the opportunity to take the ingredients for a biological treasure of some value. fertility? reproduction? ... so while they were busy, having scrapped the project, I absconded. i grabbed their two bottles of capsules, but had to go back for the packet of fertility drugs in a red box in the cabinet in the bathroom, not quite where i thought it would be, in the craft cupboard in my mother's house. i searched for it and searched for it and there was only one left, but i needed it. it was tailored for another movie star, but we w ere enough alike that i could use it anyway, and it had become a national brand. I ran away in my mother's car down the back way of the dirt road named after my stuffed toy; Shrimpy followed in his new truck. my mom's car was almost out of gas. I tried to lose him, but I kept hearing his voice in my head talking about his evil plans. Not my baby, you don't! saw a garden inside a VW bug, the new kind, a black one, grasses and all sorts of things, a bit of an alaskan field, driving down the road that goes out to goldstream valley past the yankovitch intersection towards farmer's loop. no visible driver. shrimpy chortled that that was what would happen to my kids, they would be used as controls against Their experiment that They were conducting in a stable place, and the purpose of my taking the abandoned drugs would be to see how the new technology did when operated by a mother on the run.

hid out in a city that was a carnival, the first rest stop i came to, with children all over, a playland designed for children. i did not read Spanish, which all the signs were in, but neither did most of the children.

Woke. Searched for Darkside. He's never in my bed when I wake, not even when waking with him present would calm my uneasy mind.

hands off (mostly)

Darkside commented that I seemed subdued this morning. I suppose I might be. I'm still tired, and odd dreams do tend to do that to you. I've been remembering more and more of my dreams now that I've been writing them down on a regular basis.

Breakfast. Darkside's father decided he had to do some father/son golfing -- Darkside was in pain and very unhappy still. He challenged me to arm-wrestling. I lost after several minutes. He bonked me a few times; I mostly refrained from touching him. In the computer lab, I find that in this state of lack of energy I have very little to do online after checking my e-mail (all spam), checking out the comics I follow daily, reading my friends list. I peer over at Darkside's screen. More RPG message boards. I flop face-first forward. "Oooh, look!" Darkside says.

I look. It is some anime-style pink-haired cute little girl with bunny ears. I scream in horror at the evil pink-haired cuteness and put my head back down. Darkside "Oooh, look!"s at me again. I don't move my head. He takes a handful of my short hair and lifts my head.

More pink-haired cuteness. My eyes begin to bleed. He puts my head down again... only to lift it in a more effective manner for the next screen of pink-haired cuteness.

I discover that I can close my eyes. Darkside gently opens them.

...he leaves on errands of his own. My first class starts in fifteen minutes.

weekend

Sis and Nephew and Dude were all gone for the weekend, leaving just me and the cat. Did my laundry, finally. Not much of it this time; I'd actually remembered to do it before the situation got critical. Perhaps I'll do another load tomorrow just to surprise myself.

Worked eight hours Saturday and eleven and a half hours Sunday. I may have to pull those 11.5 shifts more often -- the pay's better on the weekends. Not like I have any reason to be home Sunday afternoons until Dude leaves and I have to babysit.

Need to remember to take my decongestants. My sinuses are not happy with me. Today, almost three and a half hours after the alarm clock, my eyes are still sore and unhappy with me for dragging them out of bed.

Exhausted, in short, and I wore myself out more by pacing circles around the school hallways. Nervous and unhappy about something, I'm not sure what, quite.

GARGH!!!

Stew tonight, or supposedly so.

The guys didn't know about turning it down once it started to be done. So they didn't. Now the kitchen is redolent of scorched stew and the stew itself has black flakes floating in it.

I shall next deal with the guys and the appropriate methods of dealing with scorching stews.

Argh.

Hopefully something can be salvaged from it. I got bread, and the bread should be good, whether or not the stew is edible.

Glah. Yeargh. I guess I'm the cook of the house, together with Sis.

work not sucking for once

I got put on a survey I like, one about oil companies and the environment. I'm not sure whether I'm helping or hurting Gaia's cause by working it, but I'd naively like to think I'm helping. I got surveys in all the states I was assigned to dial but for Nevada; the supervisor asked me how long I'd been dialing Nevada, and told me to hit California instead.

At about ten past eight in California, I hit a very helpful environmentalist who answered the survey almost like I'd have answered it, only more so. Hope the statisticians won't make him out to look like a goofball loonhead freak once they get done with crunching the numbers.

After I was done with him, that was it for that survey for the night, and since I categorically refuse to have anything to do with any of the cigarette-related surveys but for the teen antismoking survey, I was out.

logical weekend

Tomorrow's my day off. Feels good. Will go shopping for birthday of Nephew, eventually. He needs toys. Apparently Construx are no longer constructed, so scratch that brilliant idea.

Oh well. I suppose I'll find something.