Entry tags:
another day, another disaster
Today's hilarious fun was when Seaners trashed the living room (including the contents of his father's wallet) while Mom and Dad were FOOLISH enough to sleep in. Good times, good times. Fortunately Wells Fargo allows you to replace your bank card by phone, and if you file it as 'damaged' they don't even deactivate the card whilst they send out a new one! These are the things you end up learning as Seaners' Parent.
I suppose at least this time he wasn't wandering outside naked.
Last night's dream: my parents (one of whom is dead in real life) decided to trash all of my writing and send me back to school to some kind of place where I could get more skills instead of wasting my time writing. So I ran away to
machineplay's, by taking the magical bustrainthing that runs from Seattle to
machineplay's place of residence in about 26 hours. This magical bustrain was much larger inside than outside, with stadium plastic seating, a rooftop cafeteria that only materialized at mealtimes, and no bathrooms. (Or, well, there were bathrooms, but they were also stadium seating and all the waste instead of going into a sewer just sort of trickled down. Literally. There were also dirty needles all over the floor. So no one used the bathrooms.)
I got to the Detroit/Windsor border crossing and was trying to figure out what I was going to tell the customs agents because my green card is being replaced right now, and then I woke up.
The amount of armchair psychoanalysis you could do with this dream is truly unreal.
God, I am so damn tired. I've been getting tired around 4:30 every day lately. Don't know why, as it has no reflection on my food/coffee/hydration schedule that I can immediately tell.
Currently: sitting on the sofa with my feet up trying to stay out of pain and at least partly failing. good times, good times.
Icon chosen purely for my own perverse amusement. Thanks Jane! <3
I suppose at least this time he wasn't wandering outside naked.
Last night's dream: my parents (one of whom is dead in real life) decided to trash all of my writing and send me back to school to some kind of place where I could get more skills instead of wasting my time writing. So I ran away to
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I got to the Detroit/Windsor border crossing and was trying to figure out what I was going to tell the customs agents because my green card is being replaced right now, and then I woke up.
The amount of armchair psychoanalysis you could do with this dream is truly unreal.
God, I am so damn tired. I've been getting tired around 4:30 every day lately. Don't know why, as it has no reflection on my food/coffee/hydration schedule that I can immediately tell.
Currently: sitting on the sofa with my feet up trying to stay out of pain and at least partly failing. good times, good times.
Icon chosen purely for my own perverse amusement. Thanks Jane! <3
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The amount of armchair psychoanalysis you could do with this dream is truly unreal
Especially with the bathrooms? Holy snikeys, yes.
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At least he was clothed and inside. You can take comfort in that. :)
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His psychiatrist pointed out when we told him about the naked incident that at least him being naked was a pretty obvious clue that he was Not Allowed To Be Out And Wandering. <3
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(He's 54 now, and a mortgage banker.)
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Also, oh, SEANERS. *sighs* It does beat him escaping. Makes me want to make 'bags o' cool' that you can plant around the house for him to 'trash' when he gets up in the morning.
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