(no subject)
I had the most violent dream I've ever had last night. I figure it was probably stress related.
It began with three kids, two boys and a girl, all about twelve, each being given access to a different 'event' in a series of comics. By the end of their time, they were all meant to know about all of the events, at which point my mind decided that the only way this would work is if the task was to give presentations to each other.
Then I was in an auditorium, with an adult giving a lecture (I hadn't been present previously). I was with a bunch of characters from Buffy. It was one of the guys who pointed out the lecture had to have been very boring, if we'd all zoned out and had the same dream about the kids and comics. Xander was groping Willow. At some point, a bit later on, I groped Spike (let's face it, who wouldn't, given the oppurtunity?).
So we all wander up to the front and chat, and I notice the rest of the audience are demons. I ask Giles if he brought the weapons, and when he gets grumpy and 'shush' I point out, loudly and bordering on hysterically, that the otehrs seem to have brought theirs. Our weapons are in two huge black bags. We all grab one.
I grabbed a scythe. Let me tell you, a scythe is a crap weapon.It was a crap scythe too, blade poorly attached to the handle. I cut through the neck of a middle aged, dumpy woman, and when she didn't turn to dust immediately (her head even stayed on) I stabbed her repeatedly in the chest with the blade. Rinse and Repeat. At some point I swapped my scythe for someone else's, which was all black plastic handle and more stabby bits. Despite the fact we were fighting demons, every person I cut down was human in appearance. All very visceral.
Eventually we realise we're out numbered and make our escape down the hill. At this point my brain decides the landscape is Lordof the Rings, and the events which follow were in LotR, even though they weren't.
It's dark, and the hill is damp. At the bottom we have to cross a river. Half way across the bridge/stepping stones turn into a dragon, a long thin wyrm type, that is oddly polite considering how many people are steppnig on its head. We shortly come to another river, and all pile into a boat that resembled the paddle steamers on the chocolate river in the Gene Wilder version of Willy Wonka.
The end.
The stress that may have caused this was manyfold. There was the box I shouldn't have borrowed (and have now returned), the fact that for a short period the house was empty and we may have missed the washing machine delivery (we hadn't, and it's all installed now), and that I needed to call about the TV license but didn't have the license number.
Once all of that was sorted I felt much better, the silver lining of stress, and went out and spent far too much money on sun stuff and random food, including starbucks. The Writer'sSoc social was brilliant. The restuarant is gorgeous, the food was great and it really is a very reasonable price. And their house white is delicious. And their mints ^_^
Still so tired, though. I'm sleeping okay, I think, but I'm wearing out quickly. Probably the various sources of stress. Today's is a letter from gran. I will have to reply to this, but avoid any subjects she might take the wrong was, or exaggerate, or use against other people. She is, basically, beginning to lose it, which is stressing out mum a lot. She believes every bit of spam post she gets, and has already spent £13000 trying to win £10000. She's making up stories that never happened, and a little while ago she managed to sleep for 72 hours. The doctor thinks it might have been a mini stroke. Apparantly she's slurring a bit now, but I don't think mum gave her my new phone number (I don't think i gave mum my new phone number!) so i don't have to worry about long and awkward phone calls.
Poor mum, at the moment. She got back from helping me move to find out my sister had had a party that wrecked the house. The kitchen ceiling is threatening to cave in because someone unscrewed the plug in the bath and all the water has been pouring through. People at the party also antagonised the next door neighbours in the council house, who are mostly ASBO teens just out of prison for threatening someone with a shotgun. My sister had to threaten to call the police on her friends to make them stop. Mum was also surprised to come home and find my sister's boyfriend in my sister's bed, especially when he seemed surprised that she insisted he sleep in a different room. Apparantly mum has been thus far blind to this side of my sister. She still likes the boyfriend though.
I'm glad I can be distant from all of this, though even when I was living at home I did my best to be distant. Love my family, but I let them take responsibility for themselves most of the time.
And now teh sun has come out agian, I shall head home!
It began with three kids, two boys and a girl, all about twelve, each being given access to a different 'event' in a series of comics. By the end of their time, they were all meant to know about all of the events, at which point my mind decided that the only way this would work is if the task was to give presentations to each other.
Then I was in an auditorium, with an adult giving a lecture (I hadn't been present previously). I was with a bunch of characters from Buffy. It was one of the guys who pointed out the lecture had to have been very boring, if we'd all zoned out and had the same dream about the kids and comics. Xander was groping Willow. At some point, a bit later on, I groped Spike (let's face it, who wouldn't, given the oppurtunity?).
So we all wander up to the front and chat, and I notice the rest of the audience are demons. I ask Giles if he brought the weapons, and when he gets grumpy and 'shush' I point out, loudly and bordering on hysterically, that the otehrs seem to have brought theirs. Our weapons are in two huge black bags. We all grab one.
I grabbed a scythe. Let me tell you, a scythe is a crap weapon.It was a crap scythe too, blade poorly attached to the handle. I cut through the neck of a middle aged, dumpy woman, and when she didn't turn to dust immediately (her head even stayed on) I stabbed her repeatedly in the chest with the blade. Rinse and Repeat. At some point I swapped my scythe for someone else's, which was all black plastic handle and more stabby bits. Despite the fact we were fighting demons, every person I cut down was human in appearance. All very visceral.
Eventually we realise we're out numbered and make our escape down the hill. At this point my brain decides the landscape is Lordof the Rings, and the events which follow were in LotR, even though they weren't.
It's dark, and the hill is damp. At the bottom we have to cross a river. Half way across the bridge/stepping stones turn into a dragon, a long thin wyrm type, that is oddly polite considering how many people are steppnig on its head. We shortly come to another river, and all pile into a boat that resembled the paddle steamers on the chocolate river in the Gene Wilder version of Willy Wonka.
The end.
The stress that may have caused this was manyfold. There was the box I shouldn't have borrowed (and have now returned), the fact that for a short period the house was empty and we may have missed the washing machine delivery (we hadn't, and it's all installed now), and that I needed to call about the TV license but didn't have the license number.
Once all of that was sorted I felt much better, the silver lining of stress, and went out and spent far too much money on sun stuff and random food, including starbucks. The Writer'sSoc social was brilliant. The restuarant is gorgeous, the food was great and it really is a very reasonable price. And their house white is delicious. And their mints ^_^
Still so tired, though. I'm sleeping okay, I think, but I'm wearing out quickly. Probably the various sources of stress. Today's is a letter from gran. I will have to reply to this, but avoid any subjects she might take the wrong was, or exaggerate, or use against other people. She is, basically, beginning to lose it, which is stressing out mum a lot. She believes every bit of spam post she gets, and has already spent £13000 trying to win £10000. She's making up stories that never happened, and a little while ago she managed to sleep for 72 hours. The doctor thinks it might have been a mini stroke. Apparantly she's slurring a bit now, but I don't think mum gave her my new phone number (I don't think i gave mum my new phone number!) so i don't have to worry about long and awkward phone calls.
Poor mum, at the moment. She got back from helping me move to find out my sister had had a party that wrecked the house. The kitchen ceiling is threatening to cave in because someone unscrewed the plug in the bath and all the water has been pouring through. People at the party also antagonised the next door neighbours in the council house, who are mostly ASBO teens just out of prison for threatening someone with a shotgun. My sister had to threaten to call the police on her friends to make them stop. Mum was also surprised to come home and find my sister's boyfriend in my sister's bed, especially when he seemed surprised that she insisted he sleep in a different room. Apparantly mum has been thus far blind to this side of my sister. She still likes the boyfriend though.
I'm glad I can be distant from all of this, though even when I was living at home I did my best to be distant. Love my family, but I let them take responsibility for themselves most of the time.
And now teh sun has come out agian, I shall head home!