The remnants of last year’s "Dried Herb Garden"
It was an overcast day. Had lunch with Mike at Pleasant Ridge Chili…We both opted for breakfast even though it was about 2 pm. Apparently he frequents my neighborhood every Saturday to get the latest series in the comic books that he collects. Funny guy.
Oh yeh, I left the sunroofs open on the truckthing all night and we had a torrential downpour. I had spaced out. My ride’s got a whole new funk to it now.
Oh yeh, again, the radio no longer works.
I used to have dreams about going to yard sales and finding toys from my youth and being very excited about it.
There was this one spaceship that made ascending and descending noises depending on the angle you held it. The main section of the ship could be removed, leaving the cockpit.
It came in black or putty.
I used to have dreams in German. I had dreams that I could hold a conversation and pronounce things right. I “blended in.”
Now I have dreams that I’m online, and I find toys from my youth on eBay.
These surfing dreams also allow me to stumble on the news that there is a cure for Cancer. Google unearths tasty family recipes long since lost. There’s a couple other ones, but I forget what they were.
I’ve created some weird superstitions or OCD-isms in my lifetime.
The earliest I remember was as a teenager, it stemmed from the whole phenomenon of a pididdle (a car with one headlight out) – I came up with the notion, if I saw I vehicle I liked, i’d wink at it, once with one eye, then the other. This would mean I would get that car. Simple eh? (I should mention this totally does not work).
I now have this odd fixation with digits. If the clock reads the same numbers across the board, say 2:22, I can make a wish. This is not all that uncommon… but I morphed this into an insane ritual for setting an alarm clock (in the rare event that i do); none of the numbers can match.
It gets nuttier.
Now, when i pump gas, I let the thing fill up and stop naturally. If the numbers stop at the price all different, say, $32.09 – I will have good fortune. If some numbers match (like 34.44), I pump until they dont (35.01). This is a way of controlling my destiny and avoiding bad fortune.
Maybe these OCD things are a way to pepper an easy “win” throughout the week.
It’s messed up. I just know all of it is completely ridiculous and I shouldn’t even mention it, unless to a therapist.
Good thing i didn’t go out last night. I think my body is trying to tell me that I need to slow the heck down.
What began as perhaps a slight headcold is evolving into full-blown flu – suggesting a viral culprit, if I’m understanding WebMD properly. They suggest that evolving and worsening symptoms are less bacterial infections and more viral.
I did manage to get out to my mom’s for a little brunch, which turned out to be a ploy by my brother to meet all his friends – I’m not sure to be honest. It was fine, good food, real nice folk, and a recipe for ginger tea surfaced.
Back home, I sank deeply into sleep, avoiding some work I had to do. Luckily the client let me know that we’re in good shape for an important presentation the following week. Which brings me to ask… What does as sick as a dog mean?