|
Saturday, Dec. 28, 2002 / 3:42 p.m. ~Unpleasant Dreams Leave Me Out of Sorts~ I hate that when I'm home all day the cats have no concept of scheduling. They harass me constantly for this and that, and I can't even open the door to the closet which contains their food without them surrounding me like muggers, or beggars on some dark street corner. "FOOD! NOW!! RIGHT???!!!!!" No. One sits here beside me now, occasionally pawing to get up, to sit on my lap, but there's a keyboard here. Her very presence annoys me. Because I know she 'wants' something. Who said cats are independent and aloof? Why? They are totally dependent, desirous even, demanding mostly. Maybe if they lived out of doors, like those people who call them independent and aloof are used to seeing, maybe then, and only then, after tiring of chasing field mice and bugs, of lying in wait for whatever might happen upon them, then, again, and only then, might they come calling, for whatever it is they feel they need. This is an unnatural environment, I realize, and I'm sorry. I think it's when I'm borderline depressed that I lie in bed after waking thinking of bizarre and odd memories from my past. Why should it pop into my head the day my mother and I bought the 'corner group' from Levitz Furniture? And does Levitz Furniture even still exist? My guess is no. Do people buy 'corner groups' anymore? Ours was fancy, with herculon covers and a stereo in the corner piece. I dreamed my brother was returning things to me, telling me he never wanted to hear from me ever again. I was at our old house, and he suddenly showed up, a dark pickup truck in the driveway, pulled all the way down, vacuum cleaners on the lawn, then pieces of antique furniture, the 'secretary' my sister-in-law coveted, but in reality my uncle carried away all the way to Italy. Beautiful antiques I was not too unhappy to have. And my brother had long hair, it fell in his face as he leaned over to grab this or that piece of furniture, unload it onto the lawn. He said he'd moved out, he had an apartment now, and he mentioned cross streets, not far from here actually, but then added that he would not be giving me the address. When I asked what if there were an emergency, might I have the phone number?, he responded that he would never be giving me his phone number, he never wanted to talk to me, ever again. I was getting a bit upset at his display, so dramatic, so uncalled for, and I asked about his wife, where was she living?, and he said she didn't want any contact with me either. I started wondering where I would put all the furniture, and I asked how I was supposed to deal with selling the house, but then I think I realized we already did that, the house was sold, we don't have that house anymore, and that must have been when I awakened. Cooler heads must have prevailed all the way into my dream. Common sense too, and reality. I think I yanked myself from the dream due to its implausibility, even in the realm of dreams. It made no sense and I knew it, and I think I chose to remove myself. Still, I woke feeling very strange, sort of awash in miscellaneous memories. I slept too much. I lay down on the sofa to watch some movie, and it's bothering me perhaps more than it should that I cannot remember no matter how hard I've tried, and promptly fell asleep, waking at 5:00 in the morning to wash my face, and floss and brush, and go to bed. Really, I'd had plenty of sleep, but since it wasn't in bed it didn't seem valid or real. I had to sleep more, though my body and mind didn't really want it, it was some other force making me do it. And so I dreamed, a restless sleep. I'm happy to be conscious and alert, to have had coffee and been reading diaries. I'm caught up on the lives of my cyber pals. I wrote to Sandy to refuse his New Year's Eve invitation, and I feel better now knowing that is not hanging over my head. I wrote him more than I usually do, told him about my activism at work, about how I don't think I'm going to Washington now, and tried to describe my reasoning, though I'm not sure I know what it is. Except the logistics. Maybe. I need to go shopping for more food. Funny how that is, I shop, I buy food, I bring it home, I eat it, I have to do it again. Again, it's logistics that prevent me from enjoying the activitiy more than I do. Although I think it may just be mind games, too much thought, not enough action. But for the felines hassling me, constantly looking to me for gratification, of any kind, I'd be enjoying this day very much. It's the grogginess of leftover dreams causing a bit of unpleasantness as well. I don't feel coherent at all. Overall, and I blame this on hormones, I feel very out of sorts, yet happy to have the day off. I'm simply tired of not knowing what day it is, of having to constantly remind myself when I can sleep late, when I must set an alarm, when I must get up and out and when I can do as I please. One last thing, I suppose, before I go elsewhere to write more nonsensical and uninteresting drivel, I deleted some things from my hard drive, some programs that didn't sound familiar to me, namely one 'savenow' and one 'bargainbuddy' and one 'delfin mediaviewer', and now that little 'connected' item on my taskbar has disappeared.... I'd thought it was related to KaZaA, and that it was crucial for my actual, er, 'connection' to such, and that without it people, my online 'peers', could not access my music files to download. I'm confused. So I'm downloading another Ali Farka Toure song, just to see if I can still download tunes, and to see if anyone downloads anything from me. My 'user level' has dropped to 56. There is a cat staring at me. I want to physically remove her from this room. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |