Recap of days #1
What I've been up to lately? Well, Friday was the "run around like a headless chicken" day. First the house examination, then two banks and then the official buying offer. We got home around 4, and then went on with packing things up.
Saturday we visited the zoo with father-in-law (who seems more and more like the sanest inlaw every time I see him), and then I went to work. Stopped around 10 pm, phoned home to say I'm going to hit the bar, and got home around midnight, somewhat refreshed.
Sunday, more packing. We went through our whole storage room, sorted everything and threw away an unholy bunch of stuff. The sun was scorching and breeze nonexistent.
Today? Schitzophrenic. I'm almost functioning, but not quite. More on how bloody bad I feel later on, if I can get that much squeezed out.
But on lighter news, I had the freakiest dream last night. I was John Lennon, wondering how come I'm alive and going WTF? at me mates looking way too young for 2005. Paul made me wanna blow a fuse in that "to kiss or to kill" kinda way, and George was acting like I had personally slighted him in some nearly unforgivable way. And then I came to realize that instead of being miraculously resurrected, I was thrust into a time loop, having to relive the worst parts of in-band bickering.
Cameos included a young male heartthrob I suddenly decided to promote as a pop idol, Mia Farrow and Brian, who also happened to be surprisingly un-dead.
Then it all suddenly changed into a fricking apocalypse sci-fi film, where we were all stuck in a giant futuristic building. Someone was guiding us to the transporters, but I knew we couldn't use it because, get this, I knew they wouldn't reassemble our molecular composition right. Something wrong with the power, that was. So I led them through an opening on the wall, and we ran and ran to the woods, and I looked back and saw this giant machine that resembled a bulldozer reaching in on us. Then the whole world tipped, and I woke up.
Saturday we visited the zoo with father-in-law (who seems more and more like the sanest inlaw every time I see him), and then I went to work. Stopped around 10 pm, phoned home to say I'm going to hit the bar, and got home around midnight, somewhat refreshed.
Sunday, more packing. We went through our whole storage room, sorted everything and threw away an unholy bunch of stuff. The sun was scorching and breeze nonexistent.
Today? Schitzophrenic. I'm almost functioning, but not quite. More on how bloody bad I feel later on, if I can get that much squeezed out.
But on lighter news, I had the freakiest dream last night. I was John Lennon, wondering how come I'm alive and going WTF? at me mates looking way too young for 2005. Paul made me wanna blow a fuse in that "to kiss or to kill" kinda way, and George was acting like I had personally slighted him in some nearly unforgivable way. And then I came to realize that instead of being miraculously resurrected, I was thrust into a time loop, having to relive the worst parts of in-band bickering.
Cameos included a young male heartthrob I suddenly decided to promote as a pop idol, Mia Farrow and Brian, who also happened to be surprisingly un-dead.
Then it all suddenly changed into a fricking apocalypse sci-fi film, where we were all stuck in a giant futuristic building. Someone was guiding us to the transporters, but I knew we couldn't use it because, get this, I knew they wouldn't reassemble our molecular composition right. Something wrong with the power, that was. So I led them through an opening on the wall, and we ran and ran to the woods, and I looked back and saw this giant machine that resembled a bulldozer reaching in on us. Then the whole world tipped, and I woke up.