Stream of Consciousness – A Most Unreliable Narrator

Sunday Fits and Starts

Dear Internet,
This is how it goes:
Wake up.
Get ready for the day. Read the Internet. Wipe the dog down after her romp outside. While both lounging on the bed, have a discussion with TheHusband about Canterbury Tales vs Inferno vs Decameron vs Arabian Nights. Intrigued, TheHusband brushes up on his medieval authors on his tablet while I finish writing a blog post that was started earlier in the week. TheHusband moves to obtain sustenance for us while I move to my office.
Begin the final prep of the white Macbook (Rakish Cad) I’m selling, I finish installing software on TheHusband’s old Macbook (Brazen Hussy) which I’m turning into desktop. Update The Sims Medieval, start new game, and use iPhone (Wanton Harlot) to find names of a famous/infamous medieval woman to name character. Find an interesting woman to model my Sims charceter on but get discouraged by how the game continues to crash on a machine that is far better equipped to handle said game then on Rakish Cad. Kill the game, turn on Of Courtly Love and Bawdiness Pandora station. Start writing a new blog post, interspersed with beating up Rakish Cad and eating lunch.
Think about earlier seen websites about medieval women, Chaucer, and medievalism in general plants the seed to see A Knights Tale again. Check Netflix to see if it is streaming, IT IS. Add to Instant Queue. Netflix then recommends I should watch Trailer Park Boys. Which means since Kristin is not on gTalk, get on Twitter to let her know about the my Trailer Park Boys discovery (find out later, she’s already known). End up having a great discussion with @hubbit [snippets] on the changing of the Englisc/sh/sch language. Titles are swapped, I end up back at “ye olde shoppe, Amezone” and end up purchasing a few more books, The Anglo-Saxon World: An Anthology (Oxford World’s Classics)
and The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales for a project I’ve been ruminating about for a few years.
Close out of Twitter, for it is dangerous.
Go back to working on blog post. Ruminating, ruminating. Marvel at how much I bounce from one thought to the next. Open up Twitter to tweet lines of thought and opted to write a blog post on the subject instead. Close out Twitter before I get sucked in yet again.
That was several hours ago.
It is now after 5PM, Rakish Cad is almost ready for its new owner, and my office is no closer to being cleaner or as organized as I had planned. What should have taken me a few hours from start to finish (prep Rakish Cad, move Brazen Hussy, sort out desks, vacuum) is in the process of being an all day affair. Which means the work that I had slated to get done today on my other projects will get pushed out to later this evening or tomorrow.
Plato reputedly said,

The first and the best victory is to conquer self.

But Plato didn’t have access to the Internet.
ttfn,
Lisa

Spider-Fly

Dear Internet,
I’m terribly afraid that some days I’m going to completely bore you with my tales. I hope you will forgive me as those days appear for life is not always going to be sunshine and gumdrops. Or grey days and thunder clouds, though as the summer progresses, the latter will be nice.
I woke up with a fright this morning as I dreamt a giant spider with wings was flying around in a room that TheHusband and I were sitting in, and I smashed it with a newspaper, drawing blood down the wall. The body landed in bowl of chips and TheHusband turned his nose up to me when I offered him the bowl of chips with the dead spider-fly body laying on the plates, as if it were purposefully dressing the plate for this occasion. I shot straight up in bed and saw the alarm clock read 6:22 AM.
I have no idea what it means.
Renew is perhaps a good word for today. I’m renewing myself on some projects, renewing my interest in music by listening to Spotify, and renewing my connection with people in general. When I woke this morning, I decided to give a shit today, and just by giving myself permission to give a shit, suddenly I can see a bit clearly.
The blog is not meant to be a quick fix, this I know. But the purpose of this is to chronicle my feelings and thoughts on a more consistent basis. Some days there may be a flurry of long winded posts and others, there may be a dearth where I post nothing but pictures of kittens. I’m just sayin’.
x0x0,
Lisa

And it slows, but for a dream

Dear Internet,
It is nearly midnight.
After my confession, and the cascade of tears that followed, I feel more at ease in my skin. Plans were made for a birthday dinner with my brother and husband, apparently a new family tradition, at The Chop House. Retail therapy cures everything, so before dinner I headed to the mall where I bought myself a new dress and shoes for the evening. The shoes, which while Instagram’d to death, are nude cork wedges. Totally un-Lisa like. But I’m tired of being Lisa-like, so the shoes were bought. While perusing the racks at Macy’s, I considered shoplifting as something also un Lisa-like, but decided that buying shoes that were not my style was more in speed with change. I didn’t fancy spending my 40th birthday night in jail.
Continue reading “And it slows, but for a dream”

Bone chips and Felix

2012 x-ray of my right ankle. Yay bone chips!

I fear I am going insane.
The last couple of weeks, I have become an emotional hot mess. My mind, and my dreams, has been everywhere and nowhere at once, shifting the lines of reality and maybe madness. My thoughts have not been racing, as they were wont to do in the past, but I am having trouble focusing on any particular thing longer than a few seconds. I’ve come out of a dead sleep several times in the last month or two when I’ve thought I’ve seen or felt things in the dark, only to discover they weren’t there. Then I feel like a fool for when I tell people about what I see/heard, because I sound ridiculous. The other night, I had a nightmare bats were dive bombing the bed and I could feel the bed shiver as each bat landed on the mattress. But of course, after waking with a gulping start, there were no bats, there was nothing over head, and the only sounds in the bedroom were the teeter-tottering snores of TheHusband and the pug.
Tonight, I heard the sound of something scratching at the wood inside of the walls in my office, some kind of persistant “scratch, scratch, scratch” that sounded more like something was trying to free itself from its wooden prison, but I couldn’t find a source of the sound. The sound was coming near a joint in the window in my office, and it was loud!, but of course as soon as I called Justin in to investigate, the sound immediately disappeared. Justin reasoned it was probably a squirrel or some other varmint hanging out in the gutters and the noise was ricocheting down into the office, since my office is in a corner room. To appease me, Justin pounded on the wall around the source of the alleged noise but nothing stirred at his thumps, and nothing has stirred since he left.
In the past when I felt like I was going slightly insane, at least my insanity had a rational to it – I could manage the craziness. But this time is different, between the dreams and the sounds, because what if this all in my head? How do I manage that?
It hurts to think. Sometimes, it hurts to read. I feel like I am drowning in information, struggling to clutch on to what is important rather than what wanted. The air is murky here, because there are no clear paths for me to go, there is vague directions, and no real sign for which way for me to wander.
I need a purpose.

Storm clouds and bendy trees

The heat broke today for the first time in weeks and I’m hoping the blanket of humidity that has been suffocating my brain will rise and let me think more clearly.
We’ve been slugs around these parts, our bodies languid in the heat and our minds unfocused and restless. We can barely stand to touch each other at night because we stick together like glue, which makes sleeping highly uncomfortable in queen size bed with two overly tall people.
The heat break does boil down to taking back what is ours, what is mine – that semi-precious gift of time that I keep forking over to other not-so -important things. Summer is racing to an end already, I can feel it even if the calendar says differently. As my calendar fills and swells, it’s sometimes difficult to remember that there once was a time when summer was the signal of new adventures waiting to happen and it should always be about that feeling.