Some funny stories and a dream

Rollercoaster girl has arrived

I just broke down on the couch, sobbing, losing my mind, in response to every suggestion of DH’s for dinner. “No, I don’t want Mahi-Mahi burgers! No spaghetti! No, I don’t want Indian fooooood!” More sobbing, sniffling, pulling him toward me on the couch. “I just want something clean and healthy!”


“No! Oh GOD NO!” Sob, sob, sob.

“Bayba, bayba, what happened?”

“I don’t knooooooow!”

DH held me, grinning. “Uh-oh, I think the hormones are kicking in,” he said. “And in about twenty minutes you are going to be cracking up.”

It didn’t take that long. We both lost it, laughing hysterically, going, “I don’t want Indian fooooood! No, no, I don’t want it!” over and over.

And then I started crying again, saying, “I hold so much inside!” But this made me laugh even harder. I honestly don’t know if I was sobbing or laughing—but it felt GREAT.

Woo! Rollercoaster girl has arrived.

Bloodhound nose in a nursing home

The nursing center where I work is actually quite clean and usually doesn’t reek of foul odors. But the other day, the building was like an olfactory map of poo and excretions. I turned the corner and passed by some soiled-laundry carts—something I do almost every day—and it was like getting slapped in the face—with poo. My eyes watered from the foulness. And then I passed the dining hall, where it smelled like they were chowing down on something warm and heinous. Then I went into a unit where it smelled like I was near a super-cholrinated swimming pool—so chlorinated that it was causing the air to burn. It was a fire/smoke/chlorine scent, and it alarmed me so much I asked others if they smelled the burning. Nope, no one else. Just bloodhound mama, here.

Giant cupcakes

Yesterday, for the most the day, I thought lovingly of a giant cupcake with a mountain of buttercream frosting. I could not get the image out of my head. Dark chocolate cupcake with a huge triangle of what basically amounted to chocolate-flavored butter on top of it. I dragged DH to TJ’s where I knew we would find an approximation of my desire: gluten-free chocolate cupcakes with white icing, much smaller, but oh-so delicious (I had one and put the rest in the freezer and manage to not think of them for at least a few seconds at a time).

My dreams are talking

In my dream last night, I was trying to find a swimming lane with water in it. Some of the lanes had grass in them. Some had water, but clearly not enough—not meant for swimming.

I finally ended up in line for a water slide. But when it became my turn, I saw that I had to climb up this really slippery metal pole with very small horizontal metal poles as steps to get to the top of the slide. I saw that I would then be shot out of a cannon into the air, and I would then arc far away into a placid ovular swimming pool where people were very peacefully and happily swimming. It seemed strange and unbelievable that they were so calm after having gone through something so violent.

(I think this must be a comment on my experiences with pregnancies in the past—violent—and my experience now—could be calm and happy because nothing has gone wrong, but I am prepared for the worst and can’t believe I’ll make it to that calm and placid ovular pool. )

The woman running the ride found out it was my first time on it, and she took the time to give me some black rubber boots to wear to help me get a better grip when climbing the slippery pole. She also gave me a camera to wear around my neck, to take pictures once I was shot into the pool. I told her that I had that same camera and that it was not waterproof. She said, “Are you serious?” concerned, but then I saw that this particular camera was the waterproof kind and reassured her. “Don’t scare me like that,” she said.

(So she is me in that moment. Scared something is going to get damaged or ruined.)

We put a fleece cover on the camera to be extra-sure it was safe.

I climbed to the top of the ladder and I could see that peaceful pool in the distance. I was going to be “born” into it, I just knew it. It was like a cliffhanger in a television series, however, because at that point in the dream, I woke up.

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  1. “Eggs?”

    “No! Oh GOD NO!”

    ^ haha!!!!

  2. I had to interrupt a work meeting this week to move to the back of the room, because the whiteboard marker smell was bothering me so much. The nose superpower, as my friend calls it, is so weird.

  3. Keep that sense of humor through the roller coaster! I can’t imagine SuperNose in a nursing facility… That really must have been something. I wonder if you can dab something under your nose to help…


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