Dream John is a Jerk

First, let me preface this blog by saying I LOVE MY HUSBAND. He is a wonderful, sweet, funny, talented man who is the perfect match for me. OK, now that we've established that...

DREAM JOHN IS A BIG JERK.

This morning, I awoke from a horrible dream in which Dream John wanted to divorce me. I can't exactly remember why (in the way of dreams) but everything was perfectly fine and then he suddenly wanted me to move out. So I had to leave with the clothes on my back. Then somehow I bought a motorcycle and there was a yellow Pikmin with me. (Obviously too much Pikmin playing these days.) And then I woke up. Thus begins this morning's conversation:

ME: Arrrrrrgh! {Leaps off the pillow.}

JOHN: Good morning, baby gator. {That's what we call each other... I know, TMI.}

ME: You're a big jerk! {Hair sticking up and heart pounding.}

JOHN: What?! What did I do? I just woke up! {Hair also sticking up and blind without glasses.}

ME: You wanted to divorce me!

JOHN: No I didn't. I like being married to you. Why would I divorce you?

ME: Because you're so mean... I had to leave the house and the yellow Pikmin was following me, and then I bought a motorcycle, but I don't know where I thought I was going. {Still half-asleep and unreasonable.}

JOHN: Maybe you've been playing too many video games. You realize that was just a *dream* right? {Trying to be reasonable with half-asleep unreasonable girl.}

ME: Yeah, but Dream John is a jerk.

We've actually already established this before. Dream John is always a meanie. He's kissed other women in front of me, drugged me, and taken away my convertible (that was the worst). It usually takes me about a full day to get over it. And Real John has to suffer for his alter ego's dream world misdemeanors. I am about done sulking, though, now that it's 8PM.

Tonight I made the BEST mac and cheese ever. AND peanut butter cookies (all from scratch). The nicest part about not working is having time to cook and bake. And John is a willing taste-tester. So I made up for my anger at Dream John by feeding Real John delicious goodies today.

I never know how to end these blogs. I feel like I should have some clever parting comment. That's all for now...

It's LIST Day!

Today, evidently, is Friday. I only know because today the Kroger cashier asked me if I was ready for the weekend. I imagine that after the Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls, Captain Crunch cereal, and other various indulgent snack foods rolled down the little grocery conveyor, she assumed I was about to have a heck of an eating binge.

I have decided to make every Friday LIST DAY! And since yesterday we worked in the front yard all day, I don't really have a lot of list fodder. But I *can* tell you that our builder apparently knocked down the house here before ours, dumped red clay on the lot, and built right on top of it. So let's play a little trivia game called:

"Ten Things We Pulled Out of the Dirt in Our Front Yard Yesterday"

1. Eight pieces of jagged broken glass

2. One liquor bottle

3. Four huge rusty nails

4. Three terrified earthworms

5. A length of wire we hope wasn't connected to anything important

6. Two very big old bolts

7. At least five whole bricks

8. Many chunks of concrete

9. A part of chain-link fence

10. A partridge in a pear tree*

*I only added that because I didn't have a number 10. We filled several buckets with what I like to call "yard shrapnel."

You will be happy to know that I didn't even touch a video game today. Read an entire novel, yes, but played Pikmin, no. But my husband is a BAD INFLUENCE. He now wants to play Pikmin with me on the 2-player challenge mode. So I imagine the day will not end without one of us uttering the words: "HE ATE MY RED GUY!" :-)

Evil Head Gnomes

EVIL head gnomes are attacking me. No, I am not going crazy (or I may be, but not about this). I went to bed last night with the mother of all headaches and woke up with it this morning. It felt like there were little gnomes inside my brain whacking me with pickaxes. After some significant medication and a nap in a dark room, there is only *one* evil gnome at my right temple, so here I am.

I crawled out of bed for the second time today with the intention of actually getting something done. I am making it a point to try to be productive for at least 30 minutes each day (as opposed to thinking of this time as entirely vacation). I know that sounds lame - most people are productive at least 8 hours each day. But given the choice of reading one of the 15 books I ordered to get me through the summer, playing Pikmin, or cleaning the bathroom, guess what I don't choose? But today was going to be different, I swear.

Unfortunately the head gnome still using his pick axe on my right temple doesn't want me to do anything productive.

EVIL HEAD GNOME: Hahahaha! I FOIL your attempts at productivity today!

ME: I took like seven medicines. Why are you still there?

EVIL HEAD GNOME: Your paltry attempt to destroy me makes me LAUGH! Hahahahaha!

ME: That's not very nice, Evil Head Gnome. Today I had really counted on doing some house work - maybe cleaning the bathroom.

EVIL HEAD GNOME: No - you will instead do my evil bidding.

ME: If by "evil bidding" you mean sitting on the couch with one eye closed and watching Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader, then I'm OK with your evil bidding.

EVIL HEAD GNOME: Oh. Well I'm just going to keep hitting your brain with this pick axe. That's pretty annoying, right??

ME: *Sigh* You win again, Evil Head Gnome.

Vacation!

We're leaving for Florida today to see Ted and Annette. John has known Ted since he was about 11, so there are always REALLY good stories. Last time we were there, Ted said: "Remember that time we blew up that_____?" It stopped there when John cut in suddenly and stopped the story mid-sentence. I think I already knew that my husband (as a child) was a bit of a delinquent. I wonder if now that we're married he'll let Ted tell all the good ones?

I got in trouble this morning for not wanting to get out of bed. I stayed up late last night packing.

JOHN: Good moooooooooorning! Time to get uuuup! {disgustingly cheerful}

ME: Go away. {puts pillow on head}

JOHN: You have to get up so we can go to Florida. {stares at me}

ME: Stop staring at me. I'll get up when you stop staring at me.

JOHN: No - the minute I turn my back you'll be sleeping again. {has been fooled before}

I'm up now - and we're about to get on the road. So probably no blog updates for a couple of days. Have a nice weekend!

The Dentist Always Knows

I have no health insurance. We (John) forgot to sign me up for it last week before mine ran out at work. Don't worry, he's working on it now. Anyway, the last two times I was between insurance, I had something terrible happen to me that required an ER visit. Once I had a horrible allergic reaction, and the other time was a concussion. I actually knocked myself out on a wall. (Long story for another day.)

So anyway, I had a dentist appointment today at noon (for which I got to "self-pay"). All my days of staying up late and not sleeping in enough must have caught up with me because I woke up at 11:50! Yikes. For me, being late to an appointment feels just short of committing a mortal sin. I HATE TO BE LATE. Now, those of you who know me know that I am not a morning person, and starting my day at 10AM is not unusual. However, if I am scheduled to be somewhere at a certain time, it's unusual for me to be late.

Waking up late is the worst kind of late. I woke up feeling just fabulous (after 12 hours of sleep), but that ended as soon as I picked up my phone and saw the time. OH CRAP! The next 20 minutes were a blur. I somehow made it out of the house in 2 minutes (fully clothed) and drove like a crazy person all the way to the dentist office, and somehow made it there only 10 minutes late.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to do the pre-dentist visit floss. Because, let's face it: nobody flosses every day (even my husband, who is a son and brother of dentists). So we think we can fool our dentists by flossing once really thoroughly to make up for the last 6 months.

DENTIST: Are you flossing regularly? {looks skeptical}

ME: Um... {tries to think of passable lie}

DENTIST: You should really floss regularly. {silently judges me}

ME: Er... {hangs head in shame}

DENTIST: I'm going to give you FREE DENTAL FLOSS in this little baggie. Take it home and use it every day. {knows I won't}

ME: Okay. {vows that THIS time it will be different}

Come on, who are we kidding? They know. They always know.

Racecar Neighbors

I read a whole novel last night. I love finding a new author (Laura Kinsale). Unfortunately I have an obsessive reading personality. If I really love a book, I won't put it down until I'm finished. I was up til 4AM with this one. I thought it would be fine since I could theoretically sleep in today.

I say "theoretically" because we have these horrible neighbors who own a racecar. Seriously - it's an actual racecar. They like to rev the engine at all hours of the day and night, including 9 in the morning when some people are trying to sleep off a night of obsessive reading.

This morning I snuck the dog into the bed after John went to work at 7AM. (Don't tell.) And we're both minding our own business, snoozing away, when suddenly a sound louder than thunder comes booming from everywhere. (Have you ever heard a racecar engine?) The dog, who never barks, leaps from under the covers in a fit of YIPE YIPE YIPE! The combination of both send me practically into a coronary event.

I've been awake since, watching bad daytime TV and having conversations with my doggie, who is still looking suspiciously next door at the bad racecar people, who are still revving their engine every so often. By the way, when did they replace Bob Barker on The Price is Right??

MIYAGI: Why do you look so tired?

ME: I stayed up too late reading and now I can't sleep any longer because of our awful racecar neighbors.

MIYAGI: You need a shower.

ME: Don't judge me - I'm unemployed now and I can NOT shower if I want to.

MIYAGI: Fine. I won't judge you, but can I have a new squeaky toy?

ME: I gave you like three of them yesterday.

MIYAGI: I know, but I already de-squeaked those and they are therefore dead to me. Can I have another one??

ME: *sigh* FINE. Here you go.

And now I've got the sounds of the racecar, The Price is Right, and a squeaky toy.

The End of Gainful Employment

Friday was my last day of work. I am still not sure how I feel about that. I think I thought I'd be thrilled to have a whole summer off and be a "Lady of Leisure" before I start school in August, but so far it feels just like a regular weekend...

EXCEPT, all weekend I've had a desperate desire to make myself do nothing productive just to prove that I don't have to cram all my housework into Saturday and Sunday. So my house looks like a meth lab... dishes, food, gutted dog toys, 4 days of mail, shoes, STUFF everywhere! I fight the urge to clean just so I can wake up on Monday and have something important to do.

In lieu of cleaning and laundry, I've played Pikmin for approximately 18 hours out of the last 48. I have blisters on my thumbs! What?! You've never heard of it? Pikmin is the most brilliant video game ever. I'll try with my limited blogger skills to post a picture, because I feel it is critical that you understand. To understand Pikmin is to understand the meaning of life.

Since John has been working all weekend, it's just been me and our longdog Miyagi. He alternates between using his special little wiener dog steps to see what's happening in the big chair and chewing on his new squeaky toy for hours at a time. Sometimes I imagine that he and I have little conversations:

MIYAGI: Hey, what are you doing up here in the big chair?

ME: I'm playing Pikmin.

MIYAGI: Well I'm going to walk all over your lap and try to kiss your face while you try to kill that bad guy, and then I'm going to go squeak my toy for a while, OK?

And so it goes...