Hm. So Washington lost and the Packers won. It’s a wonderful omen… wonder if the GOP is superstitious? I am watching the election hysteria with the powerful calm of a woman with a good prescription (actually that’s not true, I’m not taking anything except vitamins these days). The hysteria at home continues apace. I’d repeat some of the conversations I’ve been having with my spouse, except that it would be abusive merely to report the truth.
I will own that there are times when our house resembles nothing so much as a junk store run by an elderly miser. I will admit that our yard looks like an outtake from a horror movie. I will even admit that I’m not the best housekeeper in the world. But Paul, I can’t do a damned thing about the ceiling height, so I’d appreciate it if you just dropped the subject; short of an explosion, which would be satisfying but temporary, there’s not much I can do about it.
There, that was dignified, and I didn’t even swear.
Must paint house. Slime green walls. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAh !!! can’t deal with the slime green walls any more. Must have fan in bathroom (actually a fan in both bathrooms would be nice, but one thing at a time, dear Goddess). Oh, and I mean fan in the sense of a rotating device for air, not a science fiction fan, although I can count at least three science fiction fans who can adorn my bathroom ANYtime.
I light a candle for Keith, the bus driver and my doctor, all of whom provided personal and substantial help when I had my arrhythmia yesterday. Paul thought I was cracking wise until he took my pulse. My heart was leaping around in my chest like a bass drum being kicked around by teens in army boots and a ‘roid rage. Finally settled down about 10 last night. I woke up a lot last night to check that I wasn’t dead yet and then went back to sleep. Paul sleeping peacefully next to me made that much easier. Now I’m going back to work, where my heart can be still and calm.
I should probably do something about that but when my doctor told me to drink ice water and I immediately felt better… like LOTS better… I figure it’s not even a little tiny heart attack. It’s more like…. middle age. Wish it hadn’t started on the bus though, I feel sorry for the woman who was sitting next to me while I rocked back and forth moaning, Ach, I’m gonna die, and I didn’t do the dishes.
Dreamed last night about a school, run by a married couple, who were trying to run the school and get an acrimonious divorce at the same time, and the school was in a very big house, and I dreamed seeing an old coworker from Montreal who was very underwhelmed at seeing me again, sigh. But her friend was a lot more civilized and bummed me a smoke. And we played with rainbow coloured box kites, and there was a big storeroom full of neat stuff.
I’m off coffee for the duration it can’t be doing anything good for those palpitations. Badaboom!