Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong (shadesong) wrote,
Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong
shadesong

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Tew's Day

Medical
The usual.

Dreams
One of the side effects of the Toprol is "unusual dreams". Well, all dreams are unusual, aren't they? But the coolness of Toprol is that now I remember my dreams. I haven't remembered my dreams in ages. Just my nightmares. So. This is cool. In last night's installment, I was at some sort of small festival; a Nonspecific Dream Friend was painting pottery, and I wandered off to look at jewelry and swords. There was much looking at jewelry and swords, so yay. I then wandered back over to my Nonspecific Dream Friend to find that, whoa! another Nonspecific Dream Friend had painted a pottery kitten for me. But it was a magic pottery kitten. That came to life. (Some of the pottery animals could come to life. They cost extra.) It was very detailed, all sorts of gingery-colored with green eyes, and its fur felt like cotton, and it was very snuggly and purry. :)

Later on I was at a con and also had a pottery frog, but he got very sticky-icky and lethargic from being passed around too much, so I had to go get a terrarium for him. And then I woke up.

You know what I mean by Nonspecific Dream Friend, yes?

Parents
Yesterday's method of testing my patience:

1. They argue with me about something.
2. I acquiesce to shut them up.
3. An hour later, when we're about to do what they wanted, they ask why we're not doing what *I* wanted, presenting it as their idea.

Which is one of those twisty things, because I eventually get what I want, but in a way that gives me massive agita.

Tomorrow

Mom: "We should take Elayna to the Aquarium on Wednesday."
Me: "You have to pick [sister] up at the airport Wednesday."
Mom: "In the morning."
Me: "And then the turkey in the afternoon. Because I have to pick Gwyn up at the airport."
Mom: "You can't get the turkey?"
Me: "I have to get [DocOrion] and Gwyn. Wednesday is bad."
Mom: "We can pick the turkey up in the morning."
Me: "No. No, you can't. The turkey won't be ready til the afternoon."
Mom: "Well, we'll pick it up at night."
Me: "No. Mom. All the good turkeys will be gone."
Dad: "I thought you reserved a turkey?"
Me, through clenched teeth: "I. Did. I. Explained. This. To. You."

I spent half an hour last week explaining this to him, in fact. Dad does not grok the turkey thing. This is the turkey thing: I reserved an oven-ready 14-16-pound turkey for Wednesday afternoon. You cannot reserve a specific bird. They just guarantee you'll have one in that range. The earlier you show up, the better the bird. And I said we'd show up Wednesday afternoon, not Wednesday night - if we're a no-show for the afternoon, they could give our bird to someone else, and we could end up with a shriveled little bird or none at all.

This makes sense to y'all, right?

Also keep in mind that this is after them showing up two hours late, which had Elayna all hungry and impatient, and after two hours of passive-aggressive criticism.

Agh.

I don't have to see them til 3 today. Just must repeat that to myself.
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