Happy two months before my birthday and day before Independence Day!
I haven't been spending a lot of time online lately, because I've been off doing other things. Some things are productive, like spending time with my family, cleaning my room, running errands, and all that. But then there are unproductive things, like sleeping until 10am, as I am currently unemployed and have this luxury while supplies last, and lounging around watching cable television.
I have a new futon. I can't remember if I mentioned it or not and don't care if I'm repeating myself, but yes, FUTON. So I've been sleeping in my room since I got back home and have been cleaning it periodically. AJ and I have a little bet as to whether I'll have it looking decent by the end of the week. It gets creepy in my room at night. Not sure if I've mentioned it before, but my house is kinda haunted. I say "kinda" because I suppose it depends on what your definition of "haunted" is, or if you believe that it's not houses that are haunted but people. At any rate, there are unexplainable ongoing goings-on that go on in my house. I could talk forever of weird stories from years past, but I'll just talk about the past week.
Ya see, the upstairs is just messy. My room was a junk room forever, and Phillip's room has gotten rather junky as well, so neither of us were living up there for a while. Now I'm back to the upstairs, and Phillip prefers to sleep in the living room, so I am the only person upstairs. So when I hear the sounds of creaking boards, I get a little antsy. Sometimes it's Phillip being a little so-and-so sneaking into my room to scare me. And then there are times when I can hear him downstairs laughing at an episode of Friends while I distinctly hear the sounds of shifting weight on the floorboards of my room. I've been hearing this every night, minus last night.
I've recently come to the conclusion that putting my covers up to my neck is protective action. I leave on one of the bulbs of my standing medusa lamp, so I can see when I wake up in the middle of the night or if I want to catch Phillip being sneaky. I wear an eye mask to keep out the light from the light bulb and to prevent me from wanting to open my eyes as often as I want in the unlikely event that I see something that I don't want to see. There are people who have either lived here or spent some nights here and have told me that they have seen people. I have not seen any ghosts to my recollection, although I have been told that I used to see them when I was a toddler after my illness. As I cannot recall that, I won't take that into account. Anyway, I'd rather go without seeing any ghosts in my house. I understand that if they've been there for the twenty some-odd years we've lived here, they obviously mean no harm. We can obviously co-exist without casualities. That doesn't mean I'm prepared to come face-to-face with one though, as I'm sure you understand.
The other day, I took a car load of stuff to the dump and to storage, so I had to empty my trunk after waiting days to do so when I got back from Arlington. I didn't feel my room was ready for another suitcase, so I left it in the living room. Yesterday morning after I woke up, I came downstairs to find my new, sparkly, hippie-ish skirt so I could wear it to lunch with Michelle and Kris (lunch with them, not wear the skirt with them. It'd be kinda crowded). I heard Daniel's door opening, so I turned to see who was walking out: Daniel or Holly? I saw the door handle slowly move downward from its normal 180-degree angle to however far of an angle I assume it can go to, and then it just stopped. Maybe Daniel was trying to be silly and tiptoe out of his room? I didn't think much of it. I found my skirt and was on my way to the bathroom to change, but Tim was in there, so I talked with my mom in her room for a minute or two. Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Daniel and Holly in there. Turns out that neither of them were in his room. They had been outside.
Nothing particularly creepy happened after that. Unless you count the big sigh my mom and I both heard in the living room last night. I think it was our puppy Saridwynn though. So I won't count that.
I saw Michelle and Kris for lunch yesterday. We hadn't talked for a long time. I hadn't seen Michelle since before graduation (dude, it was nearly two months ago!!!), and it looks like Kris and I average a visit once every three months these days. Although Kris didn't appear to be as enthused as he seemed to be to Michelle when she told him about hanging with me, it was a good lunch. We all talked about old times: Kris and I spoke a bit of people we knew from high school, and Michelle and I spoke of stuff that happened in college. And then we all got started on Chuck Norris and Vin Diesel quotes and Carlos Mencia.
I've been thinking positively about my interview for Whitaker School. I wasn't even all that nervous about it until yesterday when Kris said, "Hide your purse." Then I started wondering, "Am I good enough for this? Can I handle this? Am I too fragile for this?" His comment didn't put these thoughts in my head by any means. I had just been ignoring them. I have been keeping an optimistic outlook, saying to myself and to others, "When I get the job..." or, "When I'm working at Whitaker..." Then there was a stupid argument this morning with Daniel over his futon, which used to be the one in the living room, which used to be the one in my mom's room, which used to be the one in the den. He was arguing that it wasn't that futon, that it was my old futon, which looked different. And while knowing the argument was ridamndiculous, I couldn't find a way to end it. When he told me I was effin stupid though, I decided it was best if I leave the room. So I washed dishes, while he came in and started slamming doors, denying he was slamming doors, and all of that. And I thought, "Is this a sign that I shouldn't go for this job?" And I tried to fight the thought. But, I mean, if an argument over a futon can't be resolved, can I handle people who are labeled as emotionally disturbed??? My mom woke up shortly thereafter, and we were talking, and she said that I shouldn't worry about arguments with my siblings, because that's like a different level. She told me that I shouldn't let my personal life affect my professional life. When I get this job, she says, I put my work hat on. And I feel that was helpful. I tell myself that if I like this job, I'll stay there for a while- six months, a year, whatever. If I don't like this job, I'll stay on for as long as I can possibly handle it in order to put my best foot forward. I feel that those working at Whitaker would understand if I couldn't deal with the job.
Daniel and I drove to Vava's house last night to drop off some food, and I asked her where Whitaker was, since I had never been there. I noticed on the way to Roxboro the other day that there was a sign pointing to a road leading to Whitaker just after C.A. Dillon, but I wasn't sure if there was an easier way. So she hopped in the truck and told us where to go. And from there, she told me the best route from my house, which was where I was thinking. So now I know where to go on Thursday. So wish me luck with that.
I have a new futon. I can't remember if I mentioned it or not and don't care if I'm repeating myself, but yes, FUTON. So I've been sleeping in my room since I got back home and have been cleaning it periodically. AJ and I have a little bet as to whether I'll have it looking decent by the end of the week. It gets creepy in my room at night. Not sure if I've mentioned it before, but my house is kinda haunted. I say "kinda" because I suppose it depends on what your definition of "haunted" is, or if you believe that it's not houses that are haunted but people. At any rate, there are unexplainable ongoing goings-on that go on in my house. I could talk forever of weird stories from years past, but I'll just talk about the past week.
Ya see, the upstairs is just messy. My room was a junk room forever, and Phillip's room has gotten rather junky as well, so neither of us were living up there for a while. Now I'm back to the upstairs, and Phillip prefers to sleep in the living room, so I am the only person upstairs. So when I hear the sounds of creaking boards, I get a little antsy. Sometimes it's Phillip being a little so-and-so sneaking into my room to scare me. And then there are times when I can hear him downstairs laughing at an episode of Friends while I distinctly hear the sounds of shifting weight on the floorboards of my room. I've been hearing this every night, minus last night.
I've recently come to the conclusion that putting my covers up to my neck is protective action. I leave on one of the bulbs of my standing medusa lamp, so I can see when I wake up in the middle of the night or if I want to catch Phillip being sneaky. I wear an eye mask to keep out the light from the light bulb and to prevent me from wanting to open my eyes as often as I want in the unlikely event that I see something that I don't want to see. There are people who have either lived here or spent some nights here and have told me that they have seen people. I have not seen any ghosts to my recollection, although I have been told that I used to see them when I was a toddler after my illness. As I cannot recall that, I won't take that into account. Anyway, I'd rather go without seeing any ghosts in my house. I understand that if they've been there for the twenty some-odd years we've lived here, they obviously mean no harm. We can obviously co-exist without casualities. That doesn't mean I'm prepared to come face-to-face with one though, as I'm sure you understand.
The other day, I took a car load of stuff to the dump and to storage, so I had to empty my trunk after waiting days to do so when I got back from Arlington. I didn't feel my room was ready for another suitcase, so I left it in the living room. Yesterday morning after I woke up, I came downstairs to find my new, sparkly, hippie-ish skirt so I could wear it to lunch with Michelle and Kris (lunch with them, not wear the skirt with them. It'd be kinda crowded). I heard Daniel's door opening, so I turned to see who was walking out: Daniel or Holly? I saw the door handle slowly move downward from its normal 180-degree angle to however far of an angle I assume it can go to, and then it just stopped. Maybe Daniel was trying to be silly and tiptoe out of his room? I didn't think much of it. I found my skirt and was on my way to the bathroom to change, but Tim was in there, so I talked with my mom in her room for a minute or two. Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Daniel and Holly in there. Turns out that neither of them were in his room. They had been outside.
Nothing particularly creepy happened after that. Unless you count the big sigh my mom and I both heard in the living room last night. I think it was our puppy Saridwynn though. So I won't count that.
I saw Michelle and Kris for lunch yesterday. We hadn't talked for a long time. I hadn't seen Michelle since before graduation (dude, it was nearly two months ago!!!), and it looks like Kris and I average a visit once every three months these days. Although Kris didn't appear to be as enthused as he seemed to be to Michelle when she told him about hanging with me, it was a good lunch. We all talked about old times: Kris and I spoke a bit of people we knew from high school, and Michelle and I spoke of stuff that happened in college. And then we all got started on Chuck Norris and Vin Diesel quotes and Carlos Mencia.
I've been thinking positively about my interview for Whitaker School. I wasn't even all that nervous about it until yesterday when Kris said, "Hide your purse." Then I started wondering, "Am I good enough for this? Can I handle this? Am I too fragile for this?" His comment didn't put these thoughts in my head by any means. I had just been ignoring them. I have been keeping an optimistic outlook, saying to myself and to others, "When I get the job..." or, "When I'm working at Whitaker..." Then there was a stupid argument this morning with Daniel over his futon, which used to be the one in the living room, which used to be the one in my mom's room, which used to be the one in the den. He was arguing that it wasn't that futon, that it was my old futon, which looked different. And while knowing the argument was ridamndiculous, I couldn't find a way to end it. When he told me I was effin stupid though, I decided it was best if I leave the room. So I washed dishes, while he came in and started slamming doors, denying he was slamming doors, and all of that. And I thought, "Is this a sign that I shouldn't go for this job?" And I tried to fight the thought. But, I mean, if an argument over a futon can't be resolved, can I handle people who are labeled as emotionally disturbed??? My mom woke up shortly thereafter, and we were talking, and she said that I shouldn't worry about arguments with my siblings, because that's like a different level. She told me that I shouldn't let my personal life affect my professional life. When I get this job, she says, I put my work hat on. And I feel that was helpful. I tell myself that if I like this job, I'll stay there for a while- six months, a year, whatever. If I don't like this job, I'll stay on for as long as I can possibly handle it in order to put my best foot forward. I feel that those working at Whitaker would understand if I couldn't deal with the job.
Daniel and I drove to Vava's house last night to drop off some food, and I asked her where Whitaker was, since I had never been there. I noticed on the way to Roxboro the other day that there was a sign pointing to a road leading to Whitaker just after C.A. Dillon, but I wasn't sure if there was an easier way. So she hopped in the truck and told us where to go. And from there, she told me the best route from my house, which was where I was thinking. So now I know where to go on Thursday. So wish me luck with that.