The problem with making bold statements

Like the one about chasing bears up trees the other day,

Is that the feeling never lasts.

I spent 90% of yesterday – well, the part of yesterday where I wasn’t at work faking friendly-happy-awake, anyway – sleeping. And I only woke up an hour ago. I can’t help but think this is a very bad thing. *Here-I-go-again-Eye-roll*

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was all a little less predictable. I mean… every time. Every single time. So slowly and so gradually, and yet not so slow or gradual that I’m not acutely aware that it’s happening. Enough that the people around me aren’t, mind. (Unless I try to tell them. Which I tend to do to the people “around me”, not the people around me. Sorry guys. Also, it may be worth pointing out at this juncture that no amount of *cuddles* and indeed probably no amount of cuddles, is going to change a damned thing. Then again, it may be worth keeping quiet about that detail after all. Everybody knows that it’s the thought that counts).

On the plus side I had a dream, during my far-too-much-sleep last night, that a massive spider bit me on my heel. (This is odd, because I’m not usually afraid of spiders. That said, I’ve never actually met one that could bite). So I’m gradually losing the ability to walk as I lose all feeling in my right leg. I struggle on, because I seem to have somewhere to be. For some reason I am in a castle – a really cold, old, grey castle – frantically trying to find the people who are supposed to be there with me. In classic dream tradition I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with this mission, even before the spider bite. Then I fall headlong down a gigantic flight of stairs. It gets darker and darker outside, and colder and colder inside, while I keep trying to get up and just can’t. Strangely, there is no pain from any of the multiple horrific injuries I must have sustained in the fall.  Maybe it’s the spider venom spreading through my whole body. The only thing I can feel, vividly, is the icy cold of the stone floor against my cheek when I finally give in. Oh, and the steady footfalls of a second spider making its way along the inside of my left arm. (Look up how tarantulas walk).

(There was also something at some point – a separate dream – about one of my old best friends being pregnant, and me being really angry with her for it, but let’s not go into that).

I like it when I can remember my dreams. Especially when they’re bordering on horror movie material.

(Hello, hello, hello, hello how low).

Today’s smile, then. Or yesterday’s smile. Or just A Smile. Because that was originally the point of this thang, y’all.


Ooh. I found out yesterday that Apple Strudel – my baby (my first goldfish) – is still alive, having fully recovered from the horrifying diseases she’s been suffering from lately as a result of my introduction of Chuck Norris/Ed Sheeran (god rest his soul) to the tank. (I took them home with me when I went the other week, because they were sick and I didn’t want them to die and fester in my room while I was away. Then I didn’t dare bring Strudel back with me because she was at death’s door and I didn’t think she’d survive the car journey. I miss her and her swimmy little ways. Sad face).

Look how pretty she is:


(A denial, A denial, A denial, A denial, A denial…)



About Stephy

50% happy, 50% wildly uncertain. 94.7% bewildered, 78% raving mad, 4.5% awesome, 63% tea/coffee and cake. Wearing odd clothes, favouring odd points of view and Drifting Aimlessly since 1991. View all posts by Stephy

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