Cranky...again! I don't know what my freakin' problem is; one day I'm fine; the next I'm cranky; then I'm fine; then I'm cranky.... And I really don't have anything about which to be cranky.
I think I'm cranky in part bc I still feel like I'm not getting stuff done. I think I'm also cranky bc the house is a mess. It's not the disarray due to displaced stuff during the mens' room renovation; it's the rest of the stuff. The cleaners come every other Monday and they're next due this coming Monday. Now, every other Monday - or thereabouts - I usually do a quick house tidying so it doesn't feel like the mess is out of control. Well, I didn't do that tidying this week and, yes, things are out of control and it's driving me meshugganah. And it's not like I'm one of those germaphobe, antibacterial freaks. Germs aren't all bad; there's some truth to that business re: what doesn't kill you.... But I don't like the untidyness and messyness (sp?). If four cats didn't live here, too, it probably wouldn't be as noticeable. Alas, they're here - and I wouldn't wish them away! - but they're slobs, which doesn't help.
I also think I'm cranky bc I can't stand the heat (and humidity) so I've been staying outside of the outside unless absolutely necessary. I just ran some errands and I wanted to stay outside...it seems like forever that I've been outside longer than the time it takes me to water my plants or get into my car...but I didn't want to stay outside bco the heat/humidity. I feel like a shut-in.
I don't know how those people in the southeast do it. It would drive me nuts! I love the central air, but I want to be able to open up a window without breaking a sweat just standing around. I need a lake...or a river...or a stream...or an ocean...some kinda water off of which to get a breeze. And hanging out by water is good for vegging out.
Annnnnyyyyyway, enough with the cranky self-indulgence and crabbyness; here's a fun post: Unfogged writes about dreams, what they tell us about ourselves and what we wish we could say about ourselves. For years, I've had a roughly monthly dream that someone is trying to kill me. It's been dying down (so to speak) to a few such dreams a year. Some of the attempts to kill me are terribly realistic and scare the stuffing out of me. Others aren't so realistic, although one such dream elicited a bone-chilling, middle of the night scream from me. Someone was trying to kill me by suffocating me with a...stockpot. Yes, a rather large, restaurant-size and -grade, shiny, stainless steel stockpot. I'm not quite sure how that was gonna get the job done; fortunately, I woke up in the midst of fighting off this vicious attack, and never witnessed my own death by cookware.
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