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Nov. 27th, 2005 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kjpepperI would just like to say that my nasal passages and my subconscious can really run off and have a big democracy cakewalk right in the middle of Tiananmen Square right now.
Seriously, though, I went to bed after posting my last entry and laid awake for a good half hour or so before finally putting myself out by trying to count far enough on my hands in binary to have to involve my toes (don't laugh, this works... if you want to add a bit of a challenge to it try to do it without counting along in decimal numbers in your head. I'm actually usually out or too sleepy to continue by the time I get to the 256 or 512 fingers... which if you average about one second per number, means I'm out in around ten minutes).
cue one of the more fucked up nightmares I've had in a while. Actually it wasn't even really a nightmare, just a messed up dream for the most part... one part of it involved![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaicat stopping by with a manuscript belonging to a friend of ours and revealing that some experimental medical procedure had reduced said friend's brain to utter oatmeal and this fact was quite obvious in her writing because while her novel was well written, it lacked any soul... very odd conversation.
The bit that had me waking up in a sweat was the bit where mine and Carole's apartment had the exact layout as it does now except it was suddenly in a basement. An unfinished one. So in between our furniture there were all sorts of pipes to nowhere, insulation, dirt floors, boilers, and furnaces strewn about. That part wasn't so bad as I'd gotten over my wariness of basements long ago, but the bit where my bed was underneath and next to a particularly intricate network of small pipes was.
Reason being, of course that the pipes were home to spiders.
Normally I'm okay with spiders. I don't like them in my bed or anything, but I'm good about them in limited doses. Like if I find them around the house or something, I'm usually perfectly fine - I'm usually the person called to chuck the big ones outside (and in MA you do occasionally get some big fuckers in the house. Fairly harmless, but still - there was one we once shook out ofsundart's pajamas that was the size of my palm including the legs). Limited doses, however, means that there have to be less than three of them at any one time though. More than three and I get just as squicky and screamy as the average bear. Like there was a reason why I never used camp showers.
So in the pipe network there were exactly three spiders. One was a fairly little tunnel spider, one was about the size of the pajama spider... and then there was this yellow and black fucker that was the size of a dinner plate and looked more like a Lego Bionicle set than a real spider, which was probably why it didn't bother me as much as it should have.
But then... there were more. And more. And more. They kept coming out of the walls and stuff. They never actually touched me, they just kinda went up in the pipes and had a nice little conference about Votes for Spiders or something, but finding oneself spontaneously trapped in the movie Arachnophobia isn't really a good thing by any measure.
So needless to say I woke up from that one shaking... Looked at the clock and was extremely pleased (yes, that's sarcasm) to find I'd only been asleep for exactly an hour and a half (dreams always feel longer than they are, ever notice that?) So here I am, at 4:30 in the morning, wide awake again. I did eventually drift back off, but it was a good half hour more of tossing.
So really, between going to bed really late last night, then not being able to really breathe right all night, having god awful dreams probably because of the blocked airway issue, i really only got any sleep between 5 and 9:30 last night. All that into consideration, and there's no way she could have known this so I'm not mad at her or anything,sundart got up this morning and didn't wake me up until it was time for her to leave for work. If she had, I would have gone with her to the mall and gone to the early show of my movie, but as it was, I had no time to get into clothes and go, and there's no midafternoon show, and I really don't want to go at 4:15. For future reference, people, I despise the whole "I thought I should let you sleep" thing - I'm one of those people that hate sleeping when other people around me are awake. (falling asleep someplace and having a nap don't count - also doesn't count if said other people are my parents or other blood relatives.) I like being the first one up and the last one down. So between that, the wonderous quality and amount of sleep I did get, the bit where I pretty much missed the movie for today, and the one nerve left I have in general, I'm a bit of a crankubus.
Breakfast now. Then another day of hating the world.
Screw that. Maybe I'll just go back to bed.
Seriously, though, I went to bed after posting my last entry and laid awake for a good half hour or so before finally putting myself out by trying to count far enough on my hands in binary to have to involve my toes (don't laugh, this works... if you want to add a bit of a challenge to it try to do it without counting along in decimal numbers in your head. I'm actually usually out or too sleepy to continue by the time I get to the 256 or 512 fingers... which if you average about one second per number, means I'm out in around ten minutes).
cue one of the more fucked up nightmares I've had in a while. Actually it wasn't even really a nightmare, just a messed up dream for the most part... one part of it involved
jaicat stopping by with a manuscript belonging to a friend of ours and revealing that some experimental medical procedure had reduced said friend's brain to utter oatmeal and this fact was quite obvious in her writing because while her novel was well written, it lacked any soul... very odd conversation.The bit that had me waking up in a sweat was the bit where mine and Carole's apartment had the exact layout as it does now except it was suddenly in a basement. An unfinished one. So in between our furniture there were all sorts of pipes to nowhere, insulation, dirt floors, boilers, and furnaces strewn about. That part wasn't so bad as I'd gotten over my wariness of basements long ago, but the bit where my bed was underneath and next to a particularly intricate network of small pipes was.
Reason being, of course that the pipes were home to spiders.
Normally I'm okay with spiders. I don't like them in my bed or anything, but I'm good about them in limited doses. Like if I find them around the house or something, I'm usually perfectly fine - I'm usually the person called to chuck the big ones outside (and in MA you do occasionally get some big fuckers in the house. Fairly harmless, but still - there was one we once shook out of
sundart's pajamas that was the size of my palm including the legs). Limited doses, however, means that there have to be less than three of them at any one time though. More than three and I get just as squicky and screamy as the average bear. Like there was a reason why I never used camp showers.So in the pipe network there were exactly three spiders. One was a fairly little tunnel spider, one was about the size of the pajama spider... and then there was this yellow and black fucker that was the size of a dinner plate and looked more like a Lego Bionicle set than a real spider, which was probably why it didn't bother me as much as it should have.
But then... there were more. And more. And more. They kept coming out of the walls and stuff. They never actually touched me, they just kinda went up in the pipes and had a nice little conference about Votes for Spiders or something, but finding oneself spontaneously trapped in the movie Arachnophobia isn't really a good thing by any measure.
So needless to say I woke up from that one shaking... Looked at the clock and was extremely pleased (yes, that's sarcasm) to find I'd only been asleep for exactly an hour and a half (dreams always feel longer than they are, ever notice that?) So here I am, at 4:30 in the morning, wide awake again. I did eventually drift back off, but it was a good half hour more of tossing.
So really, between going to bed really late last night, then not being able to really breathe right all night, having god awful dreams probably because of the blocked airway issue, i really only got any sleep between 5 and 9:30 last night. All that into consideration, and there's no way she could have known this so I'm not mad at her or anything,
sundart got up this morning and didn't wake me up until it was time for her to leave for work. If she had, I would have gone with her to the mall and gone to the early show of my movie, but as it was, I had no time to get into clothes and go, and there's no midafternoon show, and I really don't want to go at 4:15. For future reference, people, I despise the whole "I thought I should let you sleep" thing - I'm one of those people that hate sleeping when other people around me are awake. (falling asleep someplace and having a nap don't count - also doesn't count if said other people are my parents or other blood relatives.) I like being the first one up and the last one down. So between that, the wonderous quality and amount of sleep I did get, the bit where I pretty much missed the movie for today, and the one nerve left I have in general, I'm a bit of a crankubus. Breakfast now. Then another day of hating the world.
Screw that. Maybe I'll just go back to bed.
