Literally cannot concentrate on any one thing for more than 5 seconds right now.
No, I don’t have ADHD. Okay, so I might a little bit, but I’m not on medication or anything so clearly I am not one of these so-called “short attention span” victims. Ugh, my heart is literally racing right now. What’s the deal? And now *just like that* I am sweating profusely. What is up with me right now?
I may be having a caffeine attack…except I had milk for lunch. Hmmm lack of caffeine possibly? I had a smoothie for breakfast, a cereal bar to hold me over until lunch, and then for lunch I had a turkey sandwich…and I haven’t had anything since. A mint. I had a mint. Those are like .00006 % caffeine. So what is going on here?
So THIS is the reason people lose weight…Yeah, I’m not having it.
I realize I should put the forewarning out there again that I will not be writing for a few days. I’ll be heading back home for the quickly approaching holiday of Thanksgiving, and will be out with no laptop around me. Honestly? I’m looking forward to being able to plop down with a book and a handful of magazines, and then maybe get some writing done at the same time. While I miss having a laptop, and hopefully will have a new one soon, I don’t mind the disconnection from the internet 24/7. I like being able to break away, and I fear once I own a laptop again, I won’t be able to break myself away from it long enough to acknowledge that I live in the real world. Isn’t that a scary thought?
Zomg! If only!
These racing emotions might be due to the fact that I have a last-minute date which was prompted from a message of ‘I have to see you before you head out for Thanksgiving.’
Doesn’t this make a thought or two race across your mind? Why ‘must’ he see me? I know we’ve hit off on the last few dates we’ve been on, but I didn’t think it warranted we were on a ‘must’ see each other basis before heading out for the holiday break. Maybe we’re not on the same page? I should bring that up tonight…HA! No I shouldn’t. We’ve been on a handful of dates, and I was honestly settled with the idea of not seeing him until next week sometime…but now this changes things a little bit. Not dramatically, but it changes things.
We’ve had our fair share of dinners. So what now?
Either that, or he’s looking for a way into my pants. Not going to happen, broski. (Yes, I did just use the word broski.)
“In adult life I discovered that November was, astrologically speaking, the month of sex, death, and regeneration, and that November First was the Day of the Dead. It still wouldn’t have been much good for birthday parties, but it was just fine for poetry, which tends to revolve a good deal around sex and death, with regeneration possible.”
I like the way you think, Margaret Atwood, a Canadian literary sensation. The dream I had last night? Totally falls underneath the columns of Death and Regeneration. Maybe a little sex…eh, not really. There were flames, but not of the heart and loins.
You weren’t a very happy child born in the month of November, were you?
“I’m walking across a prestigious looking college campus (Think Yale or Harvard) and there’s a small group of people following behind me. We’re decked out in black attire, my hair is loose around my face, and there’s something clanking against my leg every time I take a step. I look down and I’m carrying a rather large rifle in my hands (WTF? is my first though immediately. Seriously, what am I doing with a giant rifle in my hands?)We’re not trying to conceal ourselves, we’re not hiding, but we are walking with purpose.
We were decked out like this, except in all black. Fearsome, right?
One of my teammates turns to me, and says, “Oh, hey. I meant to return this to you earlier.” He hands me a silver spoon with a blue handle. (This is the SAME EXACT spoon I’ve been carrying around in my work bag for the past couple weeks because I keep forgetting to return it to the work space kitchen. Weird…) I thank him, when suddenly a siren goes off. Oh my God, it’s happening. The negotiations or whatever didn’t go well, someone shouts behind me, and suddenly we’re running like I’ve never ran before. The rooftop lines erupt with gunfire from people I had not noticed, and my black-clad brethren and I are breaking for a stone wall a couple hundred yards in front of us. Somehow, I know this is the safe zone from what is coming. (How I know what’s coming, I have no freaking clue…My subconsious is really, really smart sometimes.)
He distracted me with a freaking spoon! I wonder what this might mean to Freud.
The ground shakes underneath my feet, and I fall to the ground. Looking over my shoulder, I see a bright whitish-yellow mushroom cloud burst upwards into the dark night sky, and my heart drops as I realize I have not only fallen behind everyone in my team, but I’m not even close to the “safe” wall and if I don’t make a move now, I’m probably going to die. There’s a whitish-yellow wall of hot smoke rushing towards me, and instead of running forward, I turn and run for a cobblestone veranda hut off to my left. Instead of running full-out, my body suddenly feels like frozen rubber and it takes immense effort to put one leg in front of the other at a running pace. (Picture this…If you’ve seen either of the Sherlock Holmes movies starring Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law, it’s like the effect of the fight scenes and when they’re running through the woods amongst machine gun fire. Suuuuuper slow and you can see every single muscle ripple beneath the skin, the air blowing the hair from my face, the fabric of my shirt creasing against my body…all of it in Hi-Def and slow-mo.)
Every little wiggle…you saw it perfectly.
Somehow, I make inside the hut and leap for my life behind the cobble-stoned wall, and I hit the ground hard. The blast erupts over the top of me as I curl into the fetal position and hug the wall as tightly as my body will allow. It’s hot and I can feel the wind against my ears. It hurts, and all I can think is “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead.” (The whitish-yellow light was really beautiful, if you can throw that thought in there, too.)
Pretty bright lights…of death.
It grows quiet very quickly. Carefully, I stand up. No one shoots at me, no one fires. Or breathes. Or moves. It’s eerily quiet. All I see if blackness and charred stone from the building that barely stands before me. I hadn’t noticed, but chunks of cobblestone lay around me, blackened and broken. No longer the proud maroons and greys it once was a mere few seconds ago. I look behind me and see the “safe” wall still stands, but no one has emerged from behind it yet. (Pulling into he parking lot at work this morning? Same eeriness and it creeped me out!)
I adjust my hat, look around me again, but still don’t see a living being. I walk the short distance to where I dropped my rifle prior to the blast, pick it up, and cock it once. Somehow, it still works just fine despite sitting in the direct blast path. I take one deep breath, raise the rifle to my shoulder, and walk towards the “safe” wall.”
Time to find out…
I may have watched the Red Dawn trailer starring Chris Hemsworth a little too much last night. Dark, and very, very creepy when I got out of my car and there was NOTHING to be heard around me except for my own breathing. Then, we had an emergency evacuation test run this morning in the office, and that did not help my mindset. Not after a dream like that.
I may or may not have just called him Delicious.
It’s not going to be so dark anymore because Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and I’m going to be with my family. So enjoy the start to the holiday season, and enjoy the crap out of your families. I don’t get to see them hardly enough, and the food! I’m drooling already. Be safe in your travels, and I shall see you around, my fellow Jedi.
Bring it on, stomachache!
Until I return…May the Force be with you!