Another bad night for my brain.

Last night, I awoke to see a writhing mass of snakes on my bedroom wall.

As I watched, they started moving closer to me. I actually scrambled over Josh and fell onto the floor to get away from them. Josh woke up and asked what was wrong. I mentioned something about the snakes getting closer to me. He was confused and I pointed to where the snakes were back on the wall--but they were not any closer to the bed than they had been at the beginning. I was so confused because they HAD moved closer to me. After a moment, the snakes disappeared altogether and I realized I had had another hallucinating episode.

I grabbed my pillow, went downstairs, and laid on the couch. I cried and cried for awhile out of embarrassment, fear, and confusion.

I finally fell asleep only to dream that, for whatever reason, I had to shoot and kill a child.

I woke up sobbing.

I hate my brain. And I'm tearing up again at work at the thought of all this.

Latin Rules.

While reading a book about komodo dragons to Kayden, I said, "Komodo dragons are a type of reptile called a moniter--monitor comes from the Latin word monere which means to warn or to advise--Komodo dragons are a cold-blooded..."

Josh looked at me like I was crazy.

I need a flyswatter...

...to swat ignorant people.

We keep a jar of M&Ms on the front counter for visitors and vendors. A delivery person just came to pick up a package. This guy (who I'm pretty sure is just now feeling the long-term effects from too much LSD in the 1960s) got a bunch of M&Ms.

He said, "Ooh! I'll take a bunch of these so you don't eat them...

because then you'd get fat and we don't want that, huh?"

Great, yes, that's great. Move along, asswipe.

News of the Dish-Tower War.

APM, Office Manager, and I were in the kitchen this morning. I was unloading dishes (and stacking them, of course) while APM and OM got their coffee.

Out of the blue, OM started talking about how cluttered the kitchen was before I cleaned it up. She said, "Do you remember how we couldn't open the cupboards because of all the tupperware dishes? People wouldn't pick them up...they just left them in the kitchen. I'm glad you're able to get people to take their dishes, Kelli. It was just AWFUL before: all these cottage cheese containers (APM is known for using cottage cheese containers), jars, mugs...it's so much nicer now."

After APM walked out of the kitchen, she smiled and said, "Sorry...I had to."

Josh may start seeing a therapist.

He just emailed me asking about the provider directory. Let's cross our fingers that he doesn't lose the motivation to go through with this.

It could mean the difference between happily married and divorced.

Monday Morning Random.

- Did you know the girl who played Samara in the first "Ring" movie was the voice of Lilo in "Lilo and Stitch"?

- Everyone has heard the snippet of the story about a man who threw his cloak in the mud so Queen Elizabeth didn't get dirty, right?

What you may not know is that years after that, the queen imprisoned the man, his new wife, and their infant son out of jealousy. The baby died shortly after in prison. The man was later executed.

- The president-appointed physician advisor to the White House is one of the primary protestors of stem cell research. The same man, in 1971, protested heatedly against in-vitro fertilization, claiming it would make mutated children. Food for thought.

Reindeer aren't real.

Kayden refuses to believe that reindeer are real animals.

He believes the only "real reindeer" are Santa's reindeer. Obviously, these reindeer can fly but there aren't actual reindeer anywhere else in the world.

All the rest are imaginary.

He is adamant about this despite the fact that we have seen reindeer at the Denver Zoo.

Goals.

One year:

Finish school
Buy a new house, possibly
Either HAPPILY married or divorced


Five years:

Pay off car
Pay off cc debt
Working on my career
Finish at least one book (not even have it published...just FINISH it already. Sigh.)


Ten years:

Have that stupid book published
Established in my career
Would love to own a bookstore by this time
Wow...Kayden would be 17 by this time. Yikes.

A hitherto unforeseen benefit of having dark hair

My impersonation of Samara, the ghost chick from The Ring, is now completely excellent.

Tried to talk with Josh last night.

I started by asking if he was happy with his life, his family life, etc. He was kind of "meh". I asked what causes him to be less than happy at home. His responses were all related to him: "no energy to do anything, always crabby" etc. I asked if he had thought anymore of getting medication. He said no. I talked to him a bit about Kort, my g-ma (who was on anti-depressants for only a few months, in order to get through a hard time), and a few other people I knew on medication.

I talked to him a bit about how I missed the "old Josh". He seemed annoyed at this and asked me to elaborate. I said the old Josh LIKED to do things with/for me and Kayden. Now it seems like he's just going through the motions. He nodded in agreement at that. I reminded him of how when Kayden was potty-training, he drew pictures of toilets and bought toy trains to encourage him. Now, Kayden is learning to read, and Josh doesn't even care to listen to him try. I also reminded him that he used to do things with his friends. He asked how long he has been like this. I said I started noticing the decline (for lack of a better word) about a year ago.

After that, I asked what his worries were. He said that he'd become addicted, that it'd be like a pill-induced lobotomy, he'd be a zombie, etc. When I tried to explain that none of my friends acted like zombies, he said everyone reacted differently. I asked if he had talked to his mom or sister (they're really close) about this. He said a bit with his mom, but he didn't pay attention to what she said.

I asked the worst that could happen if he took the pills and the worst if he didn't. He snapped and asked, "Why do those have to be the only options: to take pills or to stay the same?" I said I had already asked him to see a therapist and he refused. I asked what other options there were. He didn't reply.

I'm sure we said more, but he completely shut down. I think he was upset, but wouldn't talk at all. Finally I got really irritated with his silence and turned on a movie. He went to bed. There was no resolution and I have no idea if he'll actually take medicine. I got him on another pity party, though...so score one for me. <~~~~sarcastic.

The Great Dish-Tower War of '07.

At my job, I have to load the dishwasher at night and unload it in the morning. Yes, I actually have to do other people's dishes at work. While unloading it, I put all of the tupperware containers and personal dishes in a pile in the break room for them to pick up.

Because little things make me happy, I stack the dishes like building blocks. There's never anything breakable included and it rarely gets above 4-5 dishes high. I've yet to hear any complaints about this. Instead, people usually giggle or joke about the tower of dishes when they see it. On occasion, people have added to it (salt and pepper shakers, paper cups, etc). It doesn't happen often, but it's pretty funny when it does.

Today, though, I had just finished stacking the dishes and unloading the dishwasher when an associate project manager walked in. (An APM is basically an entry level job for someone fresh from college, who wants to pursue a construction career.) This APM is probably 24-25, but acts like he's king.

He asked why I stack the dishes. I said in a light-hearted voice, "Because it makes me happy and do you really want a cranky receptionist on your hands?" He replied, "Well, how about you build your tower...then take it down?" I said, "Does this offend you in some way?" He said, "Well it's not really professional for people to see when the door is open. It's not very office-like." And he walked out.

WTF? Sure, if I were stacking the dishes in the lobby, that would be inappropriate. But how is it unprofessional to put them in a breakroom (where we keep gossip mags, funny flyers, etc)?

I emailed the office manager, asking if she'd heard any complaints. I didn't want to resume my dish-stacking if it was bothering people.

Office Manager: No. I assumed you did that so people would remember to pick them up. Why.....is someone whining?

Me: APM snapped at me that it was unprofessional. I haven't heard any complaints before, but wanted to be sure before I continue doing it.

OM: Is any of it his?

Me: Half of the tower was his. Actually, about half of the personal dishes in the dishwasher each night are his. Maybe he doesn't like his dishes participating in such a dangerous feat each day?

OM: Maybe we should ask him if he would prefer that you put them on his desk? Maybe he is embarassed by his contribution of cottage cheese containers.

Oh yes. The war is on, APM.

Something bad is happening across the street.

At the deli I frequent.

All the strange emo kids who work there have been replaced by middle-aged, sensibly-dressed professionals.

All of the creepy, agenda-pushing paintings for sale have been replaced by landscapes and watercolors.

The seedy and questionable sofas have been replaced by fancy chairs.

The blaring, random music has been replaced by Abba and the like.

This depresses me. My beloved deli is losing its personality.

Allosaurus Syndrome

When the female Allosaurus dinosaur gave birth, she raised and nurtured her babies for two years.

Then, at the end of the two years, if they didn't run away and leave her the fuck alone, she would eat them.

My brother was kicked out of the house when he was 15.

My sister and I were kicked out for weekends at a time from the time we were 16 and 14 respectively. She was permanently out by 17 years old, me by 16.

Because of this, I diagnosed my mom with Allosaurus Syndrome:

If we kids didn't get out, she'd eat us.

Just Another Flap Hat