a wolf angel is not a good angel

All I want to do, all day long, is sleep. (I fell asleep on the 15 minute bus ride today, woke up a few stops before mine, and kept dozing off as the bus moved very very slowly uphill. I really wanted to just stay on the bus and sleep.) All I want to do, all night long, is anything but sleep.

I was too tired to uncover my car this evening, and I know that tomorrow morning, I will bitterly regret having waited.

Matilda likes to sleep under the bathtub, and all the wet catfood in a can of her favourite kind of food won’t tempt her out. Perverse thing. She’ll appear at about 3 in the morning, because it’s best to be friendly in the inconvenient hours.

Last night I dreamed that I woke up early and made muffins. I had half planned to do this for real, but figured the chance that I would magically wake up before my alarm was low. And in fact I only woke up 5 minutes before my alarm, without a single muffin to console me. At least this time I realised it was a dream during the dream itself (though this was possibly the most boring lucid dream ever), so I wasn’t surprised when I woke up.

(I just made the muffins anyhow, as I woke up not very tired, though with strawberries instead of raspberries.)

Update: they turned out all raw on the inside. No muffins for me.

“Two tickets for Sweeney Todd, please.”
“Are you aware that it’s a musical?”
“…”
“The movie. Do you know it’s a musical? With songs.”

I got my period this week, which explains why I snapped at people Tues and Wed. But it didn’t come with its usual “wow, I think I should kill myself” introduction (or at least, not a serious one — I can’t believe I can rank the levels of premenstrual suicidal ideation), so I didn’t expect it, even though it’s exactly on schedule.

In other irritable person news, I overheard some woman yelling at someone on the phone. Apparently the person (guy, I think) had ditched her without notice, and she explained that it was ok if he called to let her know beforehand (I would agree, for reasonable amounts of beforehand, where reasonable is not “well, I tried to call you 45 minutes before but you didn’t pick up your cell”), but no one could screw her over twice! She’d forgive him this time, but no one screws her over twice! It’s ok if you have to cancel, but don’t screw her over, because no one does that twice!

She was wrong, though. This guy could totally make plans with her and blow her off, screwing her over twice. He wouldn’t, one presumes, have a chance to do it three times.

I’m reading the book ‘Girls of Riyadh’, which is fine, it’s fun, it’s Gossip Girl: Saudi Arabia.

We have the love trials of the wealthy girls (though with less sex than in the Upper East Side), we have the unnamed narrator, we have the focus on the narrator’s use of the internet.

I am enjoying the book, but I am reading it in Kristen Bell’s voice, which is causing some cognitive dissonance.

Among the dreams I had last night, I dreamed I slept late and then went to a museum. And lo and behold, I slept late. I am only just barely awake now, and I’m still late, and I’m online.

This is not the ideal morning plan.

So, to continue with my litany of illness-related woes, I have this sort of persistent not quite stomach ache. I don’t really know what it is, though it tends to be responsive to Advil (and not Tylenol). It doesn’t make me feel nauseated, though I think it makes me less hungry. It is unpleasant.

I would go to sleep now, but I’m all caught up in thinking about what this is or means, and pressing on various spots on my belly to see if it has an effect. It doesn’t.

I’m so tired lately that I wish — for once — that I took more photos, so I could put them up in lieu of content.

I will instead link to a short story I like, by James Alan Gardner, Three Hearings on the Existence of Snakes in the Human Bloodstream.

I read one of the books I was all excited about. It was good, but not great.

I spent the entire bloody day shopping today. It was successful, mostly, though I need shoes. But it was long. I am most excited by the hair clips (shiny! sparkly!) that I got from a secondhand store that just opened up nearby. They’re a pair, which is very hard to find, and they have a weird clasp mechanism that I prefer to a normal barrette, and they’re all fake jewelled. (As someone with huge amounts of hair, anything that isn’t very glitzy gets very lost.)

Actually, I don’t really remember what else I got, other than some basic shirts from H&M, because I am so excited by the hair clips. Oh, jeans and brown cords. And a Mexican hot chocolate mix, for those of us (the sane ones) who like hot chocolate.

You know, if the writer’s strike doesn’t end (sigh), maybe I’ll actually watch The Wire. Or Boston Legal. Or the second season of Life on Mars. Or The Tudors. Or endless reruns as background noise, whichever.

I got three new library books today, and I am so excited to read all of them (which I am sure will lead to disappointment) that I can’t decide and so I haven’t actually started any. But the anticipation is also nice.

Pretty much I am better (some coughing, but not as terrible), and I am much more optimistic than I have been lately, in the sense of the past many months. I don’t know I’ll wake up optimistic tomorrow, but it’s nice even for just today.

The library has the new Jeanette Winterson book, even though it isn’t yet published in Canada. I am entirely unclear about why they bothered to go and find it from the UK, but I don’t care so much, because I get to go read it this weekend. Oddly, they seem to have placed it in the science fiction section, which may be accurate for the book, but is unusual for the library, which shoves everything possible into fiction or mystery.