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scarlettinaAs you may have gathered from my last entry, I went to work yesterday. It was . . . interesting, physically. Mostly I stayed at my desk, because the whole world had this fascinating, floaty feeling about it that was exacerbated by movement. I slept like the dead last night. I'm going to try working again today. The experience will be enhanced by a new round of congestion.
Haven't reported on Merlin this week; my apologies to those concerned. He's eating better than I think I can ever remember him eating. His walking seems to have improved as well. He's currently curled up next to me, his head resting on my right arm as I type. He's been doing his a lot lately, insistently resting his head on my arm or hand, even if said limb is involved in another activity. So I'll type and watch his head bouncing along on top of my hand. It's actually kind of entertaining. "I don't care if you're busy, I'm going to use you as a pillow. Period!" Still have to call the vet about the next round of tests for Monsieur le Chat, however. The first set of tests resulted in our discovering that whatever is going on with him isn't kidney-related, that in fact his kidney levels have improved since the last time we looked at them, so we still have something of a mystery on our hands.
Dream journal: I dreamed that I led a group of people to a house, a bungalow, in the midst of a dry jungle. We needed it for some reason, for hiding, maybe. The outer walls of the place were mostly windows, almost as though someone had frozen an enormous tent rather than building the place out of permanent construction materials. I was showing them that it was in good shape--sure, plants had gotten inside, but it wasn't overrun by rodents or anything like that. It had been lived in. Bookcases held piles of board games. Low furniture littered each room. And I knew there was a stash of valuable coins in some of the cabinets.
The people I was with set up their stuff, some of which was musical instruments, and two of them began to sing. Were they pop stars? I don't recall, but it seemed remarkably natural for them to do so. I was put in mind of Parker Stevenson and Shawn Cassidy. (Am I a Child of a Certain Era, or what?)
Then, suddenly, in the distance, we heard people approaching. We all crouched down, as if crouching down would be enough to hide us from them. One of our group suggested we started sort of bouncing and grunting, as a tactic for intimidating those who approached--very tribal. It didn't keep the newcomers away. They came in. They had guns. They were looking for the coin stash, among other things. The woman in charge of the strangers came straight to me, asking me where the stash was. I showed her. She inventoried it as if she had an expectation of what she'd find. I tried to ingratiate myself to her by demonstrating that I understood the worth of what she was retrieving. Our last exchange was about two particular items: a silver ingot commemorating the film "Casablanca," which she claimed was worth upwards of $8,500, [ed: No such issue exists] and a set of coins commemorating New York City skyscrapers, including the UN and the Empire State Building. [ed: No such set exists, though wouldn't they be pretty?]
Analysis: Some of this has to do with the fact that I watched an episode of "It Takes a Thief" earlier this week that made me a little skittish about the security of my home. The rest? I haven't a clue. I chalk it up to medication, exhaustion and, well, the weirdness of being me.
Haven't reported on Merlin this week; my apologies to those concerned. He's eating better than I think I can ever remember him eating. His walking seems to have improved as well. He's currently curled up next to me, his head resting on my right arm as I type. He's been doing his a lot lately, insistently resting his head on my arm or hand, even if said limb is involved in another activity. So I'll type and watch his head bouncing along on top of my hand. It's actually kind of entertaining. "I don't care if you're busy, I'm going to use you as a pillow. Period!" Still have to call the vet about the next round of tests for Monsieur le Chat, however. The first set of tests resulted in our discovering that whatever is going on with him isn't kidney-related, that in fact his kidney levels have improved since the last time we looked at them, so we still have something of a mystery on our hands.
Dream journal: I dreamed that I led a group of people to a house, a bungalow, in the midst of a dry jungle. We needed it for some reason, for hiding, maybe. The outer walls of the place were mostly windows, almost as though someone had frozen an enormous tent rather than building the place out of permanent construction materials. I was showing them that it was in good shape--sure, plants had gotten inside, but it wasn't overrun by rodents or anything like that. It had been lived in. Bookcases held piles of board games. Low furniture littered each room. And I knew there was a stash of valuable coins in some of the cabinets.
The people I was with set up their stuff, some of which was musical instruments, and two of them began to sing. Were they pop stars? I don't recall, but it seemed remarkably natural for them to do so. I was put in mind of Parker Stevenson and Shawn Cassidy. (Am I a Child of a Certain Era, or what?)
Then, suddenly, in the distance, we heard people approaching. We all crouched down, as if crouching down would be enough to hide us from them. One of our group suggested we started sort of bouncing and grunting, as a tactic for intimidating those who approached--very tribal. It didn't keep the newcomers away. They came in. They had guns. They were looking for the coin stash, among other things. The woman in charge of the strangers came straight to me, asking me where the stash was. I showed her. She inventoried it as if she had an expectation of what she'd find. I tried to ingratiate myself to her by demonstrating that I understood the worth of what she was retrieving. Our last exchange was about two particular items: a silver ingot commemorating the film "Casablanca," which she claimed was worth upwards of $8,500, [ed: No such issue exists] and a set of coins commemorating New York City skyscrapers, including the UN and the Empire State Building. [ed: No such set exists, though wouldn't they be pretty?]
Analysis: Some of this has to do with the fact that I watched an episode of "It Takes a Thief" earlier this week that made me a little skittish about the security of my home. The rest? I haven't a clue. I chalk it up to medication, exhaustion and, well, the weirdness of being me.