Confessions of a One-Track Mind

I graduated college with a very low C average, mostly because I camped out in my Accounting instructor's office and begged for a passing grade---just enough to pass, and I swore that I wouldn't be looking for any jobs as a bookkeeper.

What was my first job out of college? My first "real" job? Cashier at a convenience store, thank you very much, 2 year degree. The place was chronically understaffed, I worked massive amounts of overtime that they refused to pay me for, and I finally caught pneumonia from running in and out of the cooler.

It was during this wretched excuse for employment that something even more wrenching happened. Lady at this point was legitimately silver, being almost 16 years old. She was somewhat deaf and indifferently house-broken (this was a recent development). My dad got angry when she pooped on the rug right in front of him, threw a shoe at her with enough force to knock her down, and she wasn't able to get back up. She snapped if we got near her, and my dad very pragmatically called Animal Control. They came and got her, and I felt---and still feel---sick and guilty that she went so ignominiously. Maybe that's why I still dream that she's alive, because I never had a body to mourn and bury.

I lasted mere hours at my next job---at a scallop processing plant---and drifted for a while. Agnes had married; he was in the Navy, so she had a place of her own where I could hang out, consume mac'n'cheese and play cards. Big Red joined the Army, because she wasn't having any luck finding a job. BC was in college, as was NJ, but he was screwing around and failing things and she was going through RL crap because her mother shacked up with a total loser and moved out of state.

We were all finding out one way or another that the world wasn't anyone's oyster. I'm personally not that fond of oysters, mind you, but a few quality pearls out of the deal would've been nice.


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After church, WalMart, where I finished reading "The Last Olympian". Yes, it's tacky of me, I know, I own it---but there's a massive waiting list at the library, so I've worked my way through it in three sessions over the last week, and afterward went and picked up a couple things, so they ARE getting my business.

Came home and took a nap, as there was a brief thunderstorm coming through, making it good weather to snooze in. I woke a few minutes before six, had confused thoughts, first that I was surprised it was getting light so early in the morning, next that I'd be nice and early for the food pantry again. Then my brain rebooted and I realized it was still Sunday afternoon.

To heck with it, I said, and dozed back off. And had a dream: I was walking through New York City (or a dream fascimile thereof), and I was horrified to see a loose poodle in the middle of the street. Fortunately, the traffic had stopped for a light, and I called to him. I had a few nervous minutes when he detoured under a tall bus, but he finally came over to me. I grew up with a silver standard poodle; they are quite possibly the most intelligent dogs on earth and the threat to this one really was nightmarish.

He was charcoal gray, clipped in a natural style---clean face and feet and about two inches long all over---and wore a narrow black leather with flat goold diamond-shaped studs. (Yes, I usually DO dream in vivid detail---when I remember it.) The script on his nametag was very ornate---I wasn't sure if it said "Rudy" or "Buddy", but I'm going to say Rudy, because it's more of a poodlish name, whereas Buddy sounds more like a Lab or mixed breed.

There was a fancy gold chain with an open hook on it that I tried to attach to Rudy's collar so I could lead him. It took me a couple of minutes, and he almost wandered away once, but I rigged it so that I could hold the chain instead of trying to bend over and grab his collar and walk like that.

I woke up, and it was a little after 7---new game plan is to pull an all-nighter and hit the food bank early, since it worked so well last week. My sleep schedule is buggered; falling asleep between 4 and 5 and sleeping til 10 or 11. I've tried getting up early, didn't help, tried decaffeinating (involuntary, but still), didn't help.

It's the heat. I mean, right now, it's after midnight and it's still 87F. At this rate, by September, I'll be keeping vampire's hours....


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Yesterday was grey and angsty, with intermittant tears. Not having heard anything to the contrary, I was sure Kat was hospitalized in Oklahoma on her death-bed. Turned out that she'd been treated for dehydration and released, but I didn't find that out until after 9 PM, when I called GK to ask for an update. Meanwhile, I was exhausted from 24 hours of agita and made the mistake of taking a 4-hour "nap".

After being let off the hook, metaphorically speaking, I kicked back with the leftover BBQ from Thursday night and my favorite episode of Criminal Minds---Third Life, the one where Fred Lehne (the YED from SPN) is a former hitman in the Witness Protection program whose daughter's been kidnapped.

Thanks to that so-called nap of mine, I couldn't sleep---I was up til 6 AM working on a yuletide prompt, for which I already have 1200 words. Very familiar fandom---I haven't officially written in it before, but like Dark Angel, I know it well enough not to be intimidated. Plus, the prompt made me go "Oooh!".

Got four hours of sleep, ran up to WalMart/the bank, came back, had pastrami and cheese on an asiago roll. Just enough time for that before J arrived to collect me for dog training at 2.

An aside: The other day, Red emailed me ( this meme )

Anyway, I filled it out and emailed it to a handful of folks who I thought would have fun with it (because I know not everyone is into memes---I personally am OVER the "4 things" meme, which I've gotten every few weeks in one form or another for the last four years.)

After two training sessions and a late dinner with J, I got home, came in and checked my emails, and there was one from CapeGypsy, replying to the meme and saying that Santa had dropped by and left a pink tree in my car. Which I'd walked right past, obliviously, since it was dark and clammy out.

I ran out there and behold! There was the oblong box AND a square flat box with 18 gold balls. I have a tree, huzzah. The lights are already wired to it---white lights, exactly what I would've picked anyway!---and it took longer to fluff it than it did to set it up. Mind you, it's not decorated, and I'm going to spend as much of tomorrow afternoon as I can clearing a space for it in the office, because it IS where I spend the most time, and I *do* want to enjoy it.

Aside from a wee 8" tree I had on my desk at the billing service, I haven't put up a tree in years. Either I haven't had the space or haven't had the inclination. This is going to be fun, and it definitely qualifies as being pleasantly surprised!

I have a little bendy poodle made out of some plush pipe cleaners or something like that...I am going to see if I can add a little wire and turn her into a tree topper.

And now I am going to take my sleepy self off to bed---and to all a good night!