One thing I have learned for sure in my eighteen years: there's no such thing as being prepared for a Monday. I'm thinking about driving (aka, my job) tomorrow morning, and about how I'll pretty much be in a very unsafe mental-position to do so. Then I'm thinking about last Monday - and how I was pretty much dead after Mile High Pines, and was thinking the same thing at the time. The week before that, I was just beginning the recovery-road after The Dining Room and graduation. That was two weeks ago, can you believe that? Two weeks ago I was done with the play, and I had already graduated. How ridiculous, that time goes that fast when you don't want it to. I have this month, this precious month of freedom, before I go to Prague. Not that Prague is an unpleasant thing to look forward to - I'm very excited about it, in fact - it's just that, the nearer Prague gets, the less time I have to relax. Especially once it's here. Because then I'm gone, and then I come home, and go to school the next day. And probably begin looking for a job that week or the next. Then it's one rough semester. But AGH. One week at a time, Laura. All I mean is that the time certainly has gone fast lately.
I'm house-sitting right now. I should be sleeping, but I'm a little afraid of turning out the friendly light of this computer screen. Not that I'm afraid of being alone, or anything... though I do think it's natural to feel a little strange when you're alone in an unfamiliar house, on a different end of town with pets who don't know you and leave their crap on the carpet when you've upset them. I wish animals didn't do that. I'm dead tired though, so I probably will go to sleep soon. We watched True Grit tonight, and I fell asleep during the middle section. From Emmett and Moon's cabin-scene all the way to the "You've earned your spurs, sure enough" scene. Which breaks my heart - I love that scene. The interaction between Mattie and LaBouef is fantastic and heart-wrenching. Something about the eye contact. Especially when she says, "Have I held you back?" Ah. So good. Freaking fourteen year olds... being all talented and famous.
Oh, my legs hurt. I'm falling apart. We had a garage sale yesterday that lasted for ages, and I'm sore all over. My legs have been hurting for a few weeks, though. It's getting old. For as long as I can remember, I get bad cramps in my shins every once in a while. When I was little, it would get so bad that I would often cry in public places because I couldn't take the pain anymore. Now I just take painkillers.... but sometimes even that doesn't do it. Sometimes they hurt so badly that it makes me feel sick - you know when you get a pain so bad that you feel nauseous? Last night I woke up for a split second in the middle of the night with this searing pain shooting up both legs from my feet. I don't know what that was, but the feeling hasn't really left all day. I should get that looked into.
Ugh, I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I drive, and then Kate and I are handing out fliers all over a neighborhood for a lady we know, who is trying to start a business. I did it for her once, a month or two ago... it's in an old-folks retirement center, which apparently has strict "no soliciting" laws, and I was alone when I did it last time. Took me two days to hand out two hundred. It was hot and I got a sore back from bending over to slip the fliers under two hundred doormats. Actually, I probably did about 50 or 100 before I realized that if it hurt MY back to bend over, I ought to consider the fact that old people probably couldn't bend over that much, either... so I started putting them in the door knobs. Once I got accosted by a man and his dog, who demanded to know if I had a license to do that kind of thing. And then there was the house that had a motion-activated water-spray bottle by their front door... which escaped my notice the first time. That was not a friendly house.
The pets here are odd. There's a lovable golden retriever who is so big that he looks like a polar bear... and then there's this fat white cat named Max, who doesn't wear a collar of any kind. The only reason that this matters to me is that I'm used to my cat, who wears a small bell on the collar around her neck. She wears it because she is insane, and if we didn't hear her coming, we could never know when she was trying to sneak up and murder someone. Max, however, has no such warning signal. He's not a vicious cat, by a long shot, but it's startling how quickly he just appears somewhere, slipping into the room in his white fatness like an overweight ghost. Right now he's on a chest at the end of the bed I'm in, lying next to my jeans and just staring at them suspiciously. If it were Suki, I'd sneak up on her and do something to startle her... but Max has given me no cause for that kind of behavior. Aside from leaving a trail of diarrhea on the carpet by the door.
I'm going to bed now. Or at least going to read, or something. On the way to this house, I have to drive over some train tracks, and last night I had a dream that a train came just as I was making the turn. The conductor honked the horn at me several times, but there was oncoming traffic and I couldn't move the car. So I was stuck on the tracks, watching as the train came closer and closer - and then for a long time all I could see was the blinding headlight, until it got so close and so big that it wasn't a headlight anymore. It became the brightness around me that made it seem like it was daytime. I was distracted with this when the train hit me, and I woke up.
I've been having lots of stressful dreams lately. Strange how that works. Two weeks ago, when I really WAS stressed, I didn't have any dreams. Now that life is normal, my dreams make me afraid to sleep at times. Oh well... I'll have to take my chances. I need more sleep than I've been getting. Or more caffeine and painkillers. Whichever. haha, "Pills, pills! All kinds of pills!"
...That's it. I'm going to bed...
No comments:
Post a Comment