(no subject)
I think Blanche duBois said it best: "I want to be left alone - please!" You cannot improve upon perfection.
This morning, I woke up from a very vivid dream in which I had been admitted as an inpatient to a residential treatment facility. I had always rather envisioned the experience as imposed institutionalized meals of meat and eggs and butter and yogurt and everything else bad, and surprise room checks, but this was kind of fun...more like summer camp. (Reality at this juncture had obviously withdrawn; in consciousness, few things make my skin crawl like the thought of two weeks or more at camp, basking in the mosquito-filled bucolic splendour and sharing a cabin with seven girls. I am not Snow White, nor was I ever meant to be.) I woke up to sounds of the cats being fed, thinking, Well, that doesn't seem so bad. Going to work was almost a letdown, although no one there tries to feed me dairy, so it's all good. Haha.
My coworkers, surprisingly, have not been treating me like a circus freak these last couple of weeks. Oh, man...no one wanted to be there today. Rick discovered that I'm a legacy, and between us, we counted five on our floor alone (and at least one on 3, that I know of - related to one of the ones on 10). QA Guy Brian is one, turns out.
Tomorrow, I get to find an appropriate 34th anniversary gift. I'm thinking...gift certificate for brunch at the Fort Garry. Next year will be easy. Next year, I can find some knick-knack with "35" on it and be done with it.
I cannot wait for Tuesday.
This morning, I woke up from a very vivid dream in which I had been admitted as an inpatient to a residential treatment facility. I had always rather envisioned the experience as imposed institutionalized meals of meat and eggs and butter and yogurt and everything else bad, and surprise room checks, but this was kind of fun...more like summer camp. (Reality at this juncture had obviously withdrawn; in consciousness, few things make my skin crawl like the thought of two weeks or more at camp, basking in the mosquito-filled bucolic splendour and sharing a cabin with seven girls. I am not Snow White, nor was I ever meant to be.) I woke up to sounds of the cats being fed, thinking, Well, that doesn't seem so bad. Going to work was almost a letdown, although no one there tries to feed me dairy, so it's all good. Haha.
My coworkers, surprisingly, have not been treating me like a circus freak these last couple of weeks. Oh, man...no one wanted to be there today. Rick discovered that I'm a legacy, and between us, we counted five on our floor alone (and at least one on 3, that I know of - related to one of the ones on 10). QA Guy Brian is one, turns out.
Tomorrow, I get to find an appropriate 34th anniversary gift. I'm thinking...gift certificate for brunch at the Fort Garry. Next year will be easy. Next year, I can find some knick-knack with "35" on it and be done with it.
I cannot wait for Tuesday.