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Nov. 24th, 2008 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorchawenchBronchitis and asthma? Who can has it?
I can!
It's official. And I'm on another week of antibiotics. Z-pak this time. But I'm no longer considered Typhoid Mary and can return to work. Doc asked me "Do you smoke?" I told him no, but reminded him I work in a heavy smoking environment. To which he ticked off the YES on the smoking section and said "Yeah, you smoke".
I guess that's official too now? After 33 years, I've become a smoker?
~*~
If you were me, this would be normal....
Woke this morning with an odd dream. Demon and I had been attending a children's soccer game (blame=![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
morrigan716). Directly after the game was a meetup of a local UFO hunting club (blame=too much SciFi channel this weekend). Apparently UFO's show after soccer games. We hung out for a while, then I realized I had an appointment to get to. I sent Demon for the car. Around me were people from the UFO Club and the soccer game, which was apparently being held in a rather shady inner city park. Two men in suits had shown up and were telling people they were talent scouts for professional soccer teams.
I felt the need to argue that it was highly unlikely that these men were talent scouts of any kind. The locals (blame= A&E's Gangland) took exception to my questioning the validity of these men, and somehow that transformed into a fight. One at a time they would come to me, flash some signs or a weapon and tell me how lucky I was that they wouldn't fight a woman.
My mouth was on open word vomit. I admit, I let loose with some curses that I'm going to write down for later, because daaaayum, they were that good. But things got weirder. A child approached me, threatening, mouthing off, and venting a can of Reddi Whip in my general direction.
Yes, I said Reddi Whip. Think gangster...no....gansta. Baggy clothing, bling, grillz, shades, crooked ball cap, and nut grabbing swagger (probably to keep his pants up), wielding a can of whipped cream as a weapon.
Only he wasn't venting actual whipping cream, just air. So my fear level was down, it was obvious to me (in dream state) that either the can wasn't loaded or he didn't know how to use the can.
As he came closer I realized I had one of my chain dog leashes around my waist. I took it off and doubled it up, to use as a weapon if I needed one. My foe saw this and pulled out his wallet chain. Now I was faced with a wallet chain and an unloaded can of whipped cream.
At about this point I noticed two other distinct and troubling things. First off, I was naked. Stark naked. Secondly, my potential attacker was not a child but a midget.
It was at that moment that my watch alarm started going off. I came flying out of the bed, hand grasping for the dog chain weapon, and eyes searching for the midget with the whipped cream, fully prepared to get into a fight to the death if I had to.
And that's how my Monday started.
But really, if you're going to be me, you don't have to look for the bizarre in life.
Later this after noon, I stopped at Wal-Mart. I haven't been out at all since Thursday and the idea of going back home wasn't high on my list of Happy. So, since I was there, and I was pretty broke, I went bead shopping at the worst place to go bead shopping.
While walking from the sad craft section to the ATM on the other side of the store, I thought I heard someone following me. Like footsteps. Matching mine exactly. Every time I turned around though....no one was there. I checked my shoes, thinking I had a bit of stray paper that was making the noise. Only my shoes were paper free.
I'm pretty sure I was being watched by Security because I'd wander down one aisle, looking completely at ease, and then dart into another to trick my stalker. The stalker I could never find.
I hit the ATM and then walked back across the entire store (don't ask me why I parked in the Garden Center) to check out. And I'd catch those footsteps. I know I must have looked like I was completely out of my mind.
I checked out, headed out the doors, and the minute I stepped onto the concrete floor of the Garden Center, I heard them again. Louder and right freaking behind me. I spun around, ready to lay the smackdown on whoever was fucking with me. And no one was there.
I literally stood there for a solid minute trying to convince myself I wasn't completely insane when reason came back to my recently overcooked brain.
The jeans I was wearing were old Happy Acres jeans. When I bought them, I happened to have been wearing my Happy Acres combat boots.
Today I was in a pair of Nikes. And the bottoms of my jeans were sliding on the floor.
I had been stalking myself the entire time.
~*~
I need to get off my butt and get some laundry started. I'm looking forward to my training day on Wednesday.
I can!
It's official. And I'm on another week of antibiotics. Z-pak this time. But I'm no longer considered Typhoid Mary and can return to work. Doc asked me "Do you smoke?" I told him no, but reminded him I work in a heavy smoking environment. To which he ticked off the YES on the smoking section and said "Yeah, you smoke".
I guess that's official too now? After 33 years, I've become a smoker?
~*~
If you were me, this would be normal....
Woke this morning with an odd dream. Demon and I had been attending a children's soccer game (blame=
morrigan716). Directly after the game was a meetup of a local UFO hunting club (blame=too much SciFi channel this weekend). Apparently UFO's show after soccer games. We hung out for a while, then I realized I had an appointment to get to. I sent Demon for the car. Around me were people from the UFO Club and the soccer game, which was apparently being held in a rather shady inner city park. Two men in suits had shown up and were telling people they were talent scouts for professional soccer teams. I felt the need to argue that it was highly unlikely that these men were talent scouts of any kind. The locals (blame= A&E's Gangland) took exception to my questioning the validity of these men, and somehow that transformed into a fight. One at a time they would come to me, flash some signs or a weapon and tell me how lucky I was that they wouldn't fight a woman.
My mouth was on open word vomit. I admit, I let loose with some curses that I'm going to write down for later, because daaaayum, they were that good. But things got weirder. A child approached me, threatening, mouthing off, and venting a can of Reddi Whip in my general direction.
Yes, I said Reddi Whip. Think gangster...no....gansta. Baggy clothing, bling, grillz, shades, crooked ball cap, and nut grabbing swagger (probably to keep his pants up), wielding a can of whipped cream as a weapon.
Only he wasn't venting actual whipping cream, just air. So my fear level was down, it was obvious to me (in dream state) that either the can wasn't loaded or he didn't know how to use the can.
As he came closer I realized I had one of my chain dog leashes around my waist. I took it off and doubled it up, to use as a weapon if I needed one. My foe saw this and pulled out his wallet chain. Now I was faced with a wallet chain and an unloaded can of whipped cream.
At about this point I noticed two other distinct and troubling things. First off, I was naked. Stark naked. Secondly, my potential attacker was not a child but a midget.
It was at that moment that my watch alarm started going off. I came flying out of the bed, hand grasping for the dog chain weapon, and eyes searching for the midget with the whipped cream, fully prepared to get into a fight to the death if I had to.
And that's how my Monday started.
But really, if you're going to be me, you don't have to look for the bizarre in life.
Later this after noon, I stopped at Wal-Mart. I haven't been out at all since Thursday and the idea of going back home wasn't high on my list of Happy. So, since I was there, and I was pretty broke, I went bead shopping at the worst place to go bead shopping.
While walking from the sad craft section to the ATM on the other side of the store, I thought I heard someone following me. Like footsteps. Matching mine exactly. Every time I turned around though....no one was there. I checked my shoes, thinking I had a bit of stray paper that was making the noise. Only my shoes were paper free.
I'm pretty sure I was being watched by Security because I'd wander down one aisle, looking completely at ease, and then dart into another to trick my stalker. The stalker I could never find.
I hit the ATM and then walked back across the entire store (don't ask me why I parked in the Garden Center) to check out. And I'd catch those footsteps. I know I must have looked like I was completely out of my mind.
I checked out, headed out the doors, and the minute I stepped onto the concrete floor of the Garden Center, I heard them again. Louder and right freaking behind me. I spun around, ready to lay the smackdown on whoever was fucking with me. And no one was there.
I literally stood there for a solid minute trying to convince myself I wasn't completely insane when reason came back to my recently overcooked brain.
The jeans I was wearing were old Happy Acres jeans. When I bought them, I happened to have been wearing my Happy Acres combat boots.
Today I was in a pair of Nikes. And the bottoms of my jeans were sliding on the floor.
I had been stalking myself the entire time.
~*~
I need to get off my butt and get some laundry started. I'm looking forward to my training day on Wednesday.
