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For the last few weeks, I have been trapped in my room with plastic over the windows and towels stuffed around the doors because of the smoke from the Arizona fires, with the occasional wind current based reprieve, which tends to end abruptly, and can lead to me getting exposed and having to use benadryl to stave off a seizure.
Aside from prompting me to get back into the business of book reviews, and giving me time to write loads of fanfic, I’ve been undertaking the herculean effort of putting my messy messy room into some semblance of order. I really like the mess. This makes me sulk.
Or maybe it’s just the stir crazy talking.
Seriously, Dear Readers, you’re the only people I’ve gotten to talk to who aren’t family for weeks.
You would think that this would mean I don’t have a lot of material for a blog post, but then, you underestimate the strange things my mind does when bored. Things that aren’t funny begin to sound very funny. Case in point:
MOM: Do you have any yarn left from that skein you borrowed last week?
FISH: Go fish.
MOM: Wait, wha?
FISH: This is going to sound so much funnier when I write it up for my blog.
I’ve also been having some very odd dreams, which keeps worrying my mom, because I sometimes have seizures in my sleep, which leads to terrifying nightmares. Thankfully, they’re distinctive, so I know these aren’t seizure dreams.
FISH: I had a very strange dream last night.
MOM: Oh no, oh no, ohnoohnoohnoohnonononononono-
FISH: We had a party, and it was a really weird party, because everybody was there, I mean, Cat, and Mom’s boss, and no seriously, everybody, and we were playing charades.
MOM: Oh thank God!
FISH: And Zig kept getting mad at Yo Yo because he kept shouting out the answers first.
GRAMMY: We need to get you out more.
Speaking of which, Yo Yo and Ziggy have Opinions about this stuck in my room thing. Zig hates it. He keeps going downstairs and playing, lucky dog. But Yo Yo loves it. It means he knows where I’m going to be every second every day, and he’s a neurotic little thing. He keeps getting anxious when I leave my bedroom.
Anyway, this is not such a bad thing, because right before the smoke hit, I had surgery, so at least I get to do my hiding and my convalescing at the same time. Also, I got my hair cut to my shoulders. No more hair I can sit on. I don’t look like a fairytale princess anymore, but this is so much easier to deal with! And it’s shaped. I actually have a hair style. I may have to admit to not being five anymore.
Aside from prompting me to get back into the business of book reviews, and giving me time to write loads of fanfic, I’ve been undertaking the herculean effort of putting my messy messy room into some semblance of order. I really like the mess. This makes me sulk.
Or maybe it’s just the stir crazy talking.
Seriously, Dear Readers, you’re the only people I’ve gotten to talk to who aren’t family for weeks.
You would think that this would mean I don’t have a lot of material for a blog post, but then, you underestimate the strange things my mind does when bored. Things that aren’t funny begin to sound very funny. Case in point:
MOM: Do you have any yarn left from that skein you borrowed last week?
FISH: Go fish.
MOM: Wait, wha?
FISH: This is going to sound so much funnier when I write it up for my blog.
I’ve also been having some very odd dreams, which keeps worrying my mom, because I sometimes have seizures in my sleep, which leads to terrifying nightmares. Thankfully, they’re distinctive, so I know these aren’t seizure dreams.
FISH: I had a very strange dream last night.
MOM: Oh no, oh no, ohnoohnoohnoohnonononononono-
FISH: We had a party, and it was a really weird party, because everybody was there, I mean, Cat, and Mom’s boss, and no seriously, everybody, and we were playing charades.
MOM: Oh thank God!
FISH: And Zig kept getting mad at Yo Yo because he kept shouting out the answers first.
GRAMMY: We need to get you out more.
Speaking of which, Yo Yo and Ziggy have Opinions about this stuck in my room thing. Zig hates it. He keeps going downstairs and playing, lucky dog. But Yo Yo loves it. It means he knows where I’m going to be every second every day, and he’s a neurotic little thing. He keeps getting anxious when I leave my bedroom.
Anyway, this is not such a bad thing, because right before the smoke hit, I had surgery, so at least I get to do my hiding and my convalescing at the same time. Also, I got my hair cut to my shoulders. No more hair I can sit on. I don’t look like a fairytale princess anymore, but this is so much easier to deal with! And it’s shaped. I actually have a hair style. I may have to admit to not being five anymore.
