Friday, August 3, 2007

mama said there'll be days like this

I love the Shirelles.

I made chocolate chip cookies today for a friend's birthday but ending up burning half of them. I hate sensitive baking pans. I figured "ya know, the bottoms are burned and if I threw them out that'd be wasteful." So I ate all the burned ones and passed out on the couch instead of exercising for a half hour. My mental checks and balances system is quite manipulative. I have odd dreams too. Like I had a dream today that centered around Martha Stewart's fashion designer guest and I dreamed that the models had a party afterward and Martha wouldn't drink the punch, claiming that I hadn't washed her glass correctly. So she pulled out a fold-out cup she had stashed in the pocket of her well-pressed khakis. And I also dreamed of a jingle for a chicken joint. Instead of the numbers sung with "867-5309," I sing "8 piece chicken just $6.99." So unless I subconsciously heard that somewhere, there's a free chicken jingle up for grabs.

My day has been a bit off because I felt groggy to begin with. That might be because my eyes are tired from reading at work. It helps to take a nap when I get home to rest them but then I wake up grumpy. You don't want to mess with me when I'm sleeping. I've been known to swear at family and say odd things without realizing it and walk in my sleep. In fact, when I'm sleeping would be the perfect time to con me because I would agree to anything for someone to leave me alone. I'm practically comatose when I sleep and I like it that way. When my sister and I were little, our parents took us on a camping trip. It started to rain hard and thunderstorm and I don't remember any of it. Then there was the time when I was six or seven and my sister lost her cookies in my hair at a campsite while I was sleeping. All I recall is being shaken awake and my mom saying "Erin, get up. We need to go to the bathroom." Then I also randomly showed up in the living room in my sleepwalking state with my sheets wrapped around me when my parents were watching TV. Now I just have dreams that play along with the TV program I still have playing while I am asleep. I wonder if there is such a thing as a productive sleepwalker, someone who actually accomplishes something besides finishing off a package of Lorna Doones or lying down to sleep at a kitchen table somewhere. I like to think there is someone out there who does their taxes, cuts their dog's hair, exercises or writes emails to friends they haven't spoken with for a while. I would love to read those emails.

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