Various Signs
Mar. 28th, 2014 09:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
howeverbriefI've been having very complicated dreams where I only remember creepy details when I wake up.
Night before last, a dude was looking through my purse and said, "Do you wear perfume? This smells amazing."
Last night, I was playing with a cat who was supposed to be Olive (but it was the wrong color and had long hair like my first cat Squeaky), and when I went to mess with her paw, I pulled her whole leg off. I was really upset about it, but my dad put her in a cage and said we'd take her to the doctor next week. Then he talked about how terrible marriage is.
Ugh.
I went to the eye doctor today, and though I didn't get new glasses (I guess my eyesight hasn't changed too far), he did convince me to get prescription sunglasses. I don't know why, but when I was a kid, I always thought having prescription sunglasses was something entirely uncool adults get. (This doesn't actually make sense because my aunt has them, and she's pretty cool. She was always leaving them at our house, though, and maybe I subconsciously really didn't want to lose something that cost so much.) What's weird is I'm kind of excited about getting them anyway. They're going to be a big help when I'm outside all the time again... hopefully when that happens. Later this year maybe?
Looking at you, club foot.
Mike and I went to Del Taco for dinner, Mike in his lay around the house clothes and me in a professional outfit because the finance committee was meeting in the building today. Mike remarked that everyone probably thought he was unemployed and beat me when I got home. Haha, we're not funny. We both enjoyed the food, but the pop music playing in the background was pretty insufferable. (Especially Taylor Swift singing about how it felt like she was 22. You couldn't pay me to be 22 again. Good god, that's when I made my BEST LIFE DECISIONS.) Having this discussion made me feel old, and I agreed with Mike that we should leave before One Direction's you-don't-know-you're-beautiful-that's-why-I-can-rape-you song ended and we were subjected to something else. Mike also remarked that the music was probably meant to get people out as fast as possible. But hey, you know, I'm an optimist.
I'm guessing it won't surprise you that I'm tired. Walking is tremendously difficult, with my ankle and heel screaming at me whenever I step on my left foot, but I have one more day behind me. Hopefully that means I'm getting better. I'll find out more when I go to physical therapy on Monday (since my mom helped me find a place that will get me in then rather than two weeks from now, score). Maybe I'm weird, but I'm actually kind of looking forward to that too. It'll be nice to get moving again. I say that now, though I keep hearing about how painful everything is going to be. Oh well. We'll see how it goes.
Night before last, a dude was looking through my purse and said, "Do you wear perfume? This smells amazing."
Last night, I was playing with a cat who was supposed to be Olive (but it was the wrong color and had long hair like my first cat Squeaky), and when I went to mess with her paw, I pulled her whole leg off. I was really upset about it, but my dad put her in a cage and said we'd take her to the doctor next week. Then he talked about how terrible marriage is.
Ugh.
I went to the eye doctor today, and though I didn't get new glasses (I guess my eyesight hasn't changed too far), he did convince me to get prescription sunglasses. I don't know why, but when I was a kid, I always thought having prescription sunglasses was something entirely uncool adults get. (This doesn't actually make sense because my aunt has them, and she's pretty cool. She was always leaving them at our house, though, and maybe I subconsciously really didn't want to lose something that cost so much.) What's weird is I'm kind of excited about getting them anyway. They're going to be a big help when I'm outside all the time again... hopefully when that happens. Later this year maybe?
Looking at you, club foot.
Mike and I went to Del Taco for dinner, Mike in his lay around the house clothes and me in a professional outfit because the finance committee was meeting in the building today. Mike remarked that everyone probably thought he was unemployed and beat me when I got home. Haha, we're not funny. We both enjoyed the food, but the pop music playing in the background was pretty insufferable. (Especially Taylor Swift singing about how it felt like she was 22. You couldn't pay me to be 22 again. Good god, that's when I made my BEST LIFE DECISIONS.) Having this discussion made me feel old, and I agreed with Mike that we should leave before One Direction's you-don't-know-you're-beautiful-that's-why-I-can-rape-you song ended and we were subjected to something else. Mike also remarked that the music was probably meant to get people out as fast as possible. But hey, you know, I'm an optimist.
I'm guessing it won't surprise you that I'm tired. Walking is tremendously difficult, with my ankle and heel screaming at me whenever I step on my left foot, but I have one more day behind me. Hopefully that means I'm getting better. I'll find out more when I go to physical therapy on Monday (since my mom helped me find a place that will get me in then rather than two weeks from now, score). Maybe I'm weird, but I'm actually kind of looking forward to that too. It'll be nice to get moving again. I say that now, though I keep hearing about how painful everything is going to be. Oh well. We'll see how it goes.
