Bad dreams suck. I've had PTSD-type dreams my entire life... which I suppose as a statement would merit some explanation.
I've never had, like most people do, a defining moment or incident which has given me these dreams. They are about several different things, not just one thing and (thank God) usually nothing that has too much basis in reality. But, seriously, how does one motivate oneself to go to sleep if one knows that they will have to watch someone they know about die every night? Yes, I have some meds- but they don't actually stop the dreams, they just help me go to sleep initially and help me stay disassociated from what is going on in these depraved manifestations of the worst case scenarios. On the other hand, on the pills I'm not fully realizing the full extent of my dreams- what normally happens is something bad happens (think your younger brother dies in your arms and you can't help him), and then traditionally I start to exact some revenge on the perpetrators, which is when the real violence and gore begins. But on the meds, I'm not even following it through to the death part. The pre-death, where the cause of death occurs, is more vivid, but I don't have any sort of resolution, and without taking it out on the 'bad guys,' I don't get any sense of resolution, I only get the helpless feeling night after night after night. So I'm thinking about going off my meds... at least for a little while and see if I can break this cycle of dreams... because I hate it when I am afraid to go to sleep! I miss having Mr. Ranger Man around!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Chalk one up to the Island
Today the Island won... the tentative truce of yesterday was flagrantly violated multiple times.
My work schedule had me scheduled to start work at seven this morning. My boss called last night to confirm, and the message he left me said seven thirty. As it was after-hours, and I couldn't call and confirm, I went with the most recent set of information that he had given me and aimed to be there at seven thirty. Of course, the bus was late, so I clocked in at seven thirty four, which I admit was late. However it was really late if one didn't recall telling me to come in at seven thirty, I was really late. And of course it's my fault.
And then I'm driving this ginormous van thingy, which granted isn't really that ginormous, except that I'm used to driving an Accent, which is a teeny tiny commuter car... and the way to the Kis all twisty and windy... but I didn't drive fast enough of course.
Then- taking the clients back to the 'Kis... one of the women is pregnant, with morning sickness... so she is literally - not exaggerating- puking into a dry bag most of the way there. That was my welcome into driving to the 'Kis... Luckily I didn't have class today, because I wouldn't have gotten back in time, I probably would have been late- I tried to convey to my boss that I absolutely had to be back to the shop by five in order to make it to class on time, but he tried to feed me some line about how normally they make it back by quarter till blah blah blah- and I tried to tell him it was because of construction- whatever, hopefully he's right.
On the bright side... Mr. Ranger Man is starting to be back to normal after his vacation. It wasn't that he was mean or volatile or anything- but he was acting a whole lot more like a stupid boy than he normally did- I could tell that he had spent too much time holed up with a bunch of other dudes without enough female interaction... but today he was so wonderful- like normal... I sure wish that he didn't have to just be wonderful over the phone!
My work schedule had me scheduled to start work at seven this morning. My boss called last night to confirm, and the message he left me said seven thirty. As it was after-hours, and I couldn't call and confirm, I went with the most recent set of information that he had given me and aimed to be there at seven thirty. Of course, the bus was late, so I clocked in at seven thirty four, which I admit was late. However it was really late if one didn't recall telling me to come in at seven thirty, I was really late. And of course it's my fault.
And then I'm driving this ginormous van thingy, which granted isn't really that ginormous, except that I'm used to driving an Accent, which is a teeny tiny commuter car... and the way to the Kis all twisty and windy... but I didn't drive fast enough of course.
Then- taking the clients back to the 'Kis... one of the women is pregnant, with morning sickness... so she is literally - not exaggerating- puking into a dry bag most of the way there. That was my welcome into driving to the 'Kis... Luckily I didn't have class today, because I wouldn't have gotten back in time, I probably would have been late- I tried to convey to my boss that I absolutely had to be back to the shop by five in order to make it to class on time, but he tried to feed me some line about how normally they make it back by quarter till blah blah blah- and I tried to tell him it was because of construction- whatever, hopefully he's right.
On the bright side... Mr. Ranger Man is starting to be back to normal after his vacation. It wasn't that he was mean or volatile or anything- but he was acting a whole lot more like a stupid boy than he normally did- I could tell that he had spent too much time holed up with a bunch of other dudes without enough female interaction... but today he was so wonderful- like normal... I sure wish that he didn't have to just be wonderful over the phone!
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Indignity of Tuna Fish.
Let me lay out several points which may help to make this rant more coherent.
1. I hate anything fishy- I don't eat fish or shellfish or anything that normally live in water- I just don't like it.
2. This Island is out to get me; it is trying to bring me down in any way possible, and it has now resorted to playing dirty.
Okay... To continue. I am once again a poor college student. Not only that, I am a poor college student in this horrible place where the cost of groceries is astronomically high, so I can't actually afford to eat meat. All I can afford is, well.... cans of tuna- which is highly reprehensible because I hate the stuff, but it's all I can afford, so I drown the tuna in mayonnaise and relish in order to try not to taste it.
I'm normally a pretty healthy eater. In fact Mr. Ranger Man was just today teasing me because I was coming home from my job at the Kayak shop, wearing tie-dye and eating granola... well, you get the picture. My roommates eat stuff like Velveeta and other really processed stuff, and I just can't brin myself to do it. Back home I'm all about the farmer's markets and as fresh as possible.
So today, when I am opening my horrid can of tuna, right on the top where I can't miss it is this reproaching taunt I am sure straight from this awful Island... my tuna in a can would be good until 2011. That is what, four years from now? yuck. Just thinking about the preservatives or whatever the heck they did to that fish that would let it keep (unrefrigerated) in a can for four years made me queasy... Not only is it bad enough that I have to eat the stuff almost every day, now it's going to make fun of me too, and draw attention to the fact that it is an awful food that will never go bad?
But - I did not let this stinkin' Island get me down... I said to the Island- "you know what, Island? This may not be normal for me, but it's what I've got now and I'm going to deal with it, so you're going to have to deal with me. So bugger off and leave me alone!" And yes, this was out loud... and the day is only halfway over.
1. I hate anything fishy- I don't eat fish or shellfish or anything that normally live in water- I just don't like it.
2. This Island is out to get me; it is trying to bring me down in any way possible, and it has now resorted to playing dirty.
Okay... To continue. I am once again a poor college student. Not only that, I am a poor college student in this horrible place where the cost of groceries is astronomically high, so I can't actually afford to eat meat. All I can afford is, well.... cans of tuna- which is highly reprehensible because I hate the stuff, but it's all I can afford, so I drown the tuna in mayonnaise and relish in order to try not to taste it.
I'm normally a pretty healthy eater. In fact Mr. Ranger Man was just today teasing me because I was coming home from my job at the Kayak shop, wearing tie-dye and eating granola... well, you get the picture. My roommates eat stuff like Velveeta and other really processed stuff, and I just can't brin myself to do it. Back home I'm all about the farmer's markets and as fresh as possible.
So today, when I am opening my horrid can of tuna, right on the top where I can't miss it is this reproaching taunt I am sure straight from this awful Island... my tuna in a can would be good until 2011. That is what, four years from now? yuck. Just thinking about the preservatives or whatever the heck they did to that fish that would let it keep (unrefrigerated) in a can for four years made me queasy... Not only is it bad enough that I have to eat the stuff almost every day, now it's going to make fun of me too, and draw attention to the fact that it is an awful food that will never go bad?
But - I did not let this stinkin' Island get me down... I said to the Island- "you know what, Island? This may not be normal for me, but it's what I've got now and I'm going to deal with it, so you're going to have to deal with me. So bugger off and leave me alone!" And yes, this was out loud... and the day is only halfway over.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Quote of the Day
"The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his."
Gen. George S. Patton
h/t VoxVeterana
Gen. George S. Patton
h/t VoxVeterana
Friday, July 20, 2007
New Fisher House!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
SA
Whether or not you agree with the act of war, or the conflicts that this country is currently engaged in, one fact remains. The men and women who are fighting in these conflicts are our neighbors, our neighbors sons and daughters and they are, whether you are comfortable with it or not, fighting and dying in the name of the rest of us. To those of us who have loved ones fighting and risking their lives, it can't be about politics, it is about loving each other.
Every day, new batallions of soldiers leave. Luckily, there are amazing organizations like Soldiers' Angels who exist solely to make the lives of these soldiers easier and happier.
You can help. You don't have to support the war- but you can support your neighbors. All it takes is a commitment to send a card or a letter a month. Usually, an adoption lasts about 6-8 months, and it makes the biggest difference in the world to the soldiers who are treated to a bit of normalcy from home. Please take the time to explore this organization and reach out and support a soldier. They need us.
Every day, new batallions of soldiers leave. Luckily, there are amazing organizations like Soldiers' Angels who exist solely to make the lives of these soldiers easier and happier.
You can help. You don't have to support the war- but you can support your neighbors. All it takes is a commitment to send a card or a letter a month. Usually, an adoption lasts about 6-8 months, and it makes the biggest difference in the world to the soldiers who are treated to a bit of normalcy from home. Please take the time to explore this organization and reach out and support a soldier. They need us.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
"Non-Citizen Soldiers" etc. - WashPo
The Washington Post had an awesome opinion piece today... Definitely worth a read. Totally valid point- and a good illustration of politics getting in the way of a really great idea. Politics can be okay sometimes, but in this case the conservative agenda is harming the country.
Also this one... food for thought. Something that isn't illuminated very often, but there are a great deal of our servicemembers that don't see combat, while others see way too much. Thus is the nature of different types of jobs - the military has them just like every other industry has them!
Also this one... food for thought. Something that isn't illuminated very often, but there are a great deal of our servicemembers that don't see combat, while others see way too much. Thus is the nature of different types of jobs - the military has them just like every other industry has them!
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