It’s what I’m doing. There isn’t any going back, or speeding it up, I just have to sit it out. I dislike being sick- if I had a job I needed a break from, or I needed an excuse to get out of chores or school, it might be even welcome. As it is, it’s just time gone. I’m beading a little.
I had strange dreams last night and this morning. In one dream, I had a boatload of people over in a house I didn’t recognize, and I was making them all breakfast (which I love to do) but I didn’t seem to really be able to do it. Finally I asked my mother to help, but she really wasn’t any help at all, which wasn’t remotely correct. Kyle Cassidy was there, he doesn’t like pancakes anyway, but he does like efficiency and I was showing none of it.
Then I dreamed I was at The Blue Floors, my first house in Tucson. It was a pretty Victorian downtown in Armory Park, and Bria’s room had lovely cornflower blue paint on the floors, hence the name. I was sick in my dream, and not tracking well, and I walked outside and the whole backyard was shimmering blue. I was marveling at the trick of the light when I realized that it was water; my entire back yard was filling with water and I didn’t know why. I tried to figure out what was going on but I couldn’t speak loudly enough to be heard, I couldn’t see well enough to see who I was talking to. Sick dreams.
Evan and I went to PetSmart after school yesterday, my one foray into the world. We needed a cat brush, and I wanted to get Wyatt a new feather toy and Jasper a new cat bed, which were on the list anyway but rose to the top after their mousing prowess. Cats appreciate rewards just like any of us. We played with the kittens up for adoption, searching our hearts for scraps of willingness to hide the paperwork, lie to Bill and say we found one by the side of the road.
We didn’t find it, so we left. And Jasper loves his bed, and Wyatt loves his feather teaser.