after all the folderol...

I stand (or more correctly, currently sit) corrected.
I wish I could spell-check my blog--oh wait, I can!

Also, we were a little clever at 14. Just a little. After all, we figured out how to make my mom cut open the wall on the stairway, how to get out of class in a legit fashion (i.e., plays) and how to spell separate. That's a start, right?

Ooh, my super fun steroids gave me a weird dream last night. And ever since I started taking them I've had tons of energy for about two hours after taking them and I've been waking up sweating. A cold sweat. Yuck. Normally I re-wear pajamas, but these bad boys are going straight to the dirty clothes.

The dream was (fuzzily) this:
I was at some restaurant/mall/something that I recalled being one of my favorites and super cool. I went to the restroom, which was up five or six stairs, and through a door. It was cool because there were all sorts of shops inside that only women could access--there was the same thing as well for men. Turns out that there are lots of more feminine or manly stores, and they'd occupy the spaces sharing a back side of the store, and then the ones like, Express and Express Men would do the same thing. There was a whole other wing of the mall with shared gender stores. Anywho.

So I go pee and I decide I want to get some gelato or sherbet or whatever the hell this stuff was. There's a taller girl with strawberry blonde hair to my right, and she's in line in front of me. I scoot over to look at the flavors and my pink Vera Bradley shoulder bag I'm carrying hits her. She makes some comment about how I didn't need to be carrying two bags, and if I hadn't been I wouldn't have hit her. I got all watery eyed and told her that I was sorry, that I had a bag of my purse stuff and that the pink bag was for my things for the funeral of my grandfather.

Weird, huh?

Yeah, 'cause I don't have a grandfather....

...

I have a granddaddy or a granddad. I wouldn't call him my grandfather. And Alvis, who is arguably a grandfather-esque person in my life, is 1) already dead and 2) not someone that I'd go to their funeral.

It was weird.

Anyway.

I'm ex-haus-te-ed. Two lectures were too much. I'm 4 hours behind now, I do believe. But if I'm a good girl tonight I'll make some definite headway. And I may even get off to an early start because my CT Scan is at 330, and should only take half an hour, and I have zero intention of going back to work unless we're crazy swamped. And it's likely that we will be, and it's likely that I won't do anything about it.

Okay, time to get to doing my stuff for the day. Wahoo!