What's it mean when your screen flickers on a laptop? Is it an LCD thing or is it a not-taking-very-good-care-of-the-laptop thing?
I would be very pleased if someone told me the days and nights would be like this until fall. I used to say that I preferred 70-75 during the days and 50's at night. Now I'm thinking I can handle the 80+ degree weather as long as there isn't a lot of humidity.
Charlie had some fancy-schmancy kind of brake pads and rotors put on the Santa Fe today that are supposed to last ten years. I asked him why he was planning on doing that when he's been talking about trading it in to lower payments nonstop for the past year. He said “Because you told me you wanted to keep it!”
I wish there was some way he could let me know when he's actually paying attention to what I've said because half the time I think he's just sitting there and nodding, thinking about football.
I've stopped biting my nails. It happened over the course of the past few months at some point when I couldn't close my mouth all the way due to all the dental work. I couldn't chew on my nails very efficiently so I just gave up.
I don't know if this is the genuine end of nail biting altogether because I can officially bite them off with ease now. But I don't want to.
So, I haven't had my hair cut in something like five months and I haven't been biting my nails. All that's left is smoking. And I'm not sure I'm ready to tackle that just yet.
We're taking Cavan to the fair tomorrow. I didn't think I'd be going this year but he said he'd never been since moving to Indiana so I figured what the hell. I got three tickets yesterday and Charlie took another vacation day. I think he's down to four for the entire rest of the year. I think he wants to save those for the Big Holidays.
Speaking of which, I've already started doing some shopping for those. Just a couple of things I picked up for mom and dad. Otherwise I don't even want to think about you-know-what.
I woke up this morning, a bit later than usual, to my younger cat meowing in my face. I don't know why he was doing it. Some cat lovers say their pets wake them up to go outside or be fed, but my cats neither go outside nor needed food.
I was in the middle of a dream where all the players were either co-workers or regulars at the coffeeshop. Generally it only takes a couple of weeks to a month or so at a job before I have dreams specifically revolving around that job. I imagine it's my brain's way of sorting through information, assimiliating and associating people while I'm sleeping.
But I don't really recall any other dreams about work and I've already been there a year. Which reminds me – I'm due for my annual review and a raise. We'll see how long that takes.
So as I'm waking up this morning with my cat hollering in my face I recall standing in a public restroom at some sort of lake or park. There were messages scribbled all over the walls of the stall from one of my co-workers, like directions as to how one could leave him heroin, where they could get their money, and little love notes to his son. Someone told me this was his MySpace page. Elsewhere around the lake/park thingie, I ran into one of our regulars, an older woman who comes in at least two or three times a day and who, I've estimated, spends somewhere around my salary each year at our store on tea and hot chocolate. This is all she gets, but her husband comes in at least twice a day, as well, and gets the same thing. They could pay my tuition with their daily tea and cocoa if they wanted to and I'd still have gobs of cash left over.
In the dream she seemed sort of helpless, fragile. She was wandering around aimlessly and I was trying to help her out but I couldn't determine what she needed.
It wasn't an especially thrilling dream, but it was weird, if only because I could count on one hand the number of times in my life I've actually realized I was dreaming. Otherwise it's always very, very real. You'd think I was smart enough to figure out when I'm awake and when I'm sleeping.