I can't think of a good or funny intro to this post. The idea for it has been rolling around in my brain for a couple of weeks, but I couldn't muster up the energy to actually write about it since it really boils down to me complaining about things that have either been bugging me, or dumb things I did without pausing to think about the consequences. Anyway, here we go.
1. Thunderstorms. I'm over them. I haven't stopped to count how many thunderstorms we've had since I got back to Edmonton. The one that tried to flood my room was the first of many. I used to love thunderstorms; they gave me the shivers, like when you're reading the scary part of a book or watching a creepy movie, and you're scared but also slightly exhilarated because in the back of your mind you know that the book or movie isn't real so you enjoy being scared because it's just pretend-scared, not actually fearing-for-my-life-scared. Thunderstorms used to make me feel that way.
Now, I just want to smack the thunder and tell it to shut-up already.
I am a light sleeper; I sleep with a fan on to drown out noises that keep me awake: my own snoring, other people snoring, my own breathing, other people breathing, crickets, cars going by, birds (the window has to be closed for this one, otherwise they're too dang loud for the fan), and the weird mewing noise I make when I'm falling asleep laying on my back and start dreaming that I'm talking to someone and the dream talking causes me to attempt talking in my sleep but I'm not a sleep talker like Bec so it comes out as a mew. Anyways...
Thunder refuses to be drowned out by the fan, and my brain can't get used to it. It's too loud and inconsistent. About a week and a half ago a storm started, oh, right about the time I turned my light off for bed. And lasted the next two and a half hours. I couldn't relax because my body kept tensing for the inevitable crash every time I detected a flicker of lightning through my closed eyelids. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so annoying had it not been the night before I had to give a presentation/tutorial on Windows Movie Maker in class. Whatever joy I got from thunderstorms has since evaporated. Now I just get an annoyed feeling, kind of like - okay, you know how sometimes you think back on an unpleasant encounter with someone you dislike and years later you think of all the things you should have said but didn't at the time, so now every time you think about that encounter you get this angry, itchy, I-want-to-punch-someone feeling because you can't go back in time and say all the things you've thought of, and contacting that person to say them now isn't what rational adults do, and you're trying your hardest to be a rational adult even if you don't really like it because that's what society thinks you should be, so you don't contact them but every time you look back at that encounter you get that same feeling? That's me and thunderstorms.
2. Tumbleweed made of cat hair. Today I got one of my crazy cleaning urges. These come upon me every couple of months or so, and I know my mum loves it because I'll do things like clean the entire kitchen (even wiping down the counters) or the rec room. I think it's part boredom, part sporadic OCD/germaphobia that leads to these urges. Well, today I decided it would be a good idea to vacuum the carpets and sweep the floors.
You guys, I almost DIED.
The weather was nice and cool so I decided to open the doors and windows to let air move through the house. Sweeping in the basement wasn't too bad, although Gus decided to let me sweep the entire laundry room floor and dispose of the sprayed kitty litter before taking a dump and spraying more litter everywhere when he covered it up and hopped out. Brat. Then I did the middle floor, which was less fun, but still manageable, and the central vac sucker-up place in the kitchen floor was very helpful.
It was when I got to my room that everything went south. I had been sweeping with the broom, then vacuuming up the tumbleweeds and assorted debris with the hand vac. But I guess it's been a while since I swept or vacuumed under my desk, because there was a colony of dust bunny/tumbleweed hybrids living under it, and they took an exception to my eviction notice. I thought it would be okay. I got everything gathered in a nice little pile in the middle of the hallway, got on my hands and knees to use the hand vac, and then...a breeze blew through my open window, giving the bunnyweeds an opportunity to launch an air assault on my nose and mouth. Only my quick reflexes and the fact that my hand was already on the switch for the hand vac saved me from what would have been an untimely and gruesome demise at the hands of Lilycathairbunnyweeds.
3. Watching "Pitch Black" and other scary movies before bedtime. I should have learned from "Signs". I should have learned from years of watching "Supernatural". I should have learned from watching "Jurassic Park", and "Independence Day" and reading assorted R.L. Stein books back in the day (Fear Street, not Goosebumps). I don't do well with scary material right before bedtime. My imagination is a tiny bit hyperactive when it's dark and I've just watched or read something scary. The other night, "Pitch Black" and "The Chronicles of Riddick" were on AMC, so I DVR'd them to watch later. I have a grudging, almost unwilling attraction to Vin Diesel DON'T JUDGE ME!!
I decided the next evening that "Pitch Black" + nail painting = FUN TYMES!! And for the first little while it was. Vin Diesel's physique strikes a perfect balance between nicely muscled and grotesquely sculpted, which makes up for the deficiencies of his face and acting abilities (ooh, I'm such a meanie). The movie itself didn't scar me for life or anything, but the premise - creatures that are harmed by light, hunt in the dark, and aren't picky about what or whom they eat? Well, it's all entertainment watching people get munched until you're in your room...in the dark...and there are shadows you can't identify because you're nearly blind without your glasses or contact lenses, and your hyperactive imagination is constructing various scenarios in which you are gruesomely devoured by flying sightless beasties because you can't hide in their echolocation blind spot like Riddick because you're lying flat on your bed so they'll find you and eat you unless you can snap the light on quickly enough so you practice your speed light-turning-on abilities, then feel really stupid once the light is back on because, hello, it's a movie, and not even a very good one at that and you are a rational sometimes-adult so start acting like one and go to sleep!
Anyway, I probably shouldn't watch scary movies before bedtime anymore. "Chronicles of Riddick" last night didn't count, because it's not scary, not really, not when Karl Urban has a ridiculous mullet/braid/ponytail hairdo and chews the scenery like a dog that's failed obedience school chews shoes.
4. School. Particularly summer school. Please, family, friends, loved ones of all sorts, please don't ever let me go back for another degree. If I ever start talking about it, remind me of how much I hate school. Remind me of how painful it is to have to go to school every day, and do homework, and get graded on it. Remind me of how much I freak when I get a 6/8 on a blog post where three weeks' worth of posts count as only 10% of my grade. Remind me of how I dislike giving presentations to my classmates where they have the opportunity to grill me on how my activities promote higher-level cognitive strategies through the use of technology, so I stress about it for two weeks to the point where Cathie invites a middle-schooler over to give me her real-live-student feedback on what I have begun to suspect is a crazy person's idea of a good technology-based project. Because I've only been in school for three weeks - I've done one of my two summer courses - and I'm hoping I can squeeze out a little more effort for the next class, but right now I'm so done with school I'm afraid I'll totally slack on this next class.
Also, remind me of how much I dislike professors who e-mail homework assignments that needs to be completed BEFORE the first class session. That's cheating! We haven't even HAD class yet! You can't give me homework!
5. Eating McDonald's french fries right before bed. Too salty. Woke up ridiculously bloated. I could do without a repeat.
Okay, rant over.
No comments:
Post a Comment