I had the dream again last night. It's been awhile since I had it so it makes me wonder why it surfaced again. It starts out the same and generally ends the same. I'm at school. The community college usually, which I haven't seen the inside of (nor outside for that matter) for about fifteen years. I'm looking for my locker. I don't remember the number or the combination. Usually I'm late for a class. Accounting or stats or equally dreaded subject. I need my book and I know I haven't read the assignment or done the homework and I'll need the book to fake my way through. But I can't find the damned locker. Apparently it's a night class this time and I left my keys in my locker and I can't leave without them. Someone starts flicking the lights to signal time. The lockers are all different. Some are tall and narrow, others just little boxes. Some have combination locks like a safe. Others just masterlocks. Some nothing at all. Not even a number. I know the general area but can't pin down the specific locker.
People are moving past me in the dim light, heading for the stairs and the exit. Then a guy calls my name. But it's my old name, the one associated with my previous life, a life I left behind years ago. I don't recognize him and tell him he's mistaken me for someone else. He says it's not safe around there any more. He starts talking about his wife, his brother-in-law. Meanwhile, I'm scanning the walls trying to find the locker so I can leave. I think about projects that I managed to skirt around and never complete. Major projects required for school. I wonder how I was able to graduate without doing them. I pass the same people in the hallway again and again and wonder if they notice me. I find a light switch and turn them back on so I can see what I'm doing. It doesn't help. And then I wake up.
I wonder what exactly my subconscious is searching for when I have this dream. I never seem to find it.

Do they still do that? Or is it more likely the hypocritical oath? Finally got my prescription from the doctor. Dropped it off at the pharmacy, did my other errands, picked it up and discovered that the doctor only gave me half my dosage. Called the office but since it was after 5 p.m. they wouldn't answer the phone. Called the pharmacy and they said they would contact the doctor about the mistake. Called the doctor's office this morning, left a message and waited all day for a call back. Didn't get one. Which isn't surprising with this particular outfit. Called again and left another message and still nothing. The other prescription was ok but I was only given one refill. WTF? Treating a patient shouldn't include poking them with a sharp stick. This isn't the first time they've made me jump through hoops but I guarantee it's the last.

My mouth is killing me. It feels like someone has my molars in the grip of a pair of rusty, cold pliers and they're steadily pulling and twisting. Yesterday it was the upper teeth on the left side. Tonight it is the lower teeth on the left side. My teeth have been hurting a bit ever since I got my 6 month cleaning by Sweeney Todd, Dental Hygienist, about five weeks ago. Not like it is now though. Just mildly sore. Like you'd feel if a sadist just flossed your teeth with razor wire. Tonight it is borderline excruciating. And it's Friday night and the office is closed for three days. I saw a doctor on Tuesday thinking I had an ear infection. Usually when I catch a cold it presents with the teeth on one side of my face hurting like hell. Alka Seltzer Cold Plus kicks it's little viral ass if I take it early enough. Hasn't worked so far this time. Anyway, back to the doctor. I drove by the office on Monday to make an appointment because I can never get anything done by phone with them. The only opening they had was for 5:30 on Tuesday. I was ok with that. 8 to 10 Ibuprofen a day seemed to be keeping the pain in check. The guy, not my regular doctor, took down my history, checked my ears, checked my teeth and throat and told me to take more Ibuprofen. His recommendation was to up my dosage to 2400 mg a day. I got him to renew my other prescriptions and he said he faxed them over to my pharmacy. That was Tuesday. My husband has been calling both parties all week and they finally got one of the prescriptions from the doctor's office. I have to go back and pick the other one up since it can't be sent electronically. Would have been nice if they had just given it to me on Tuesday. I loathe those people. It's not that I'm a difficult patient. I'm not. Honestly. I just hate incompetence and laziness.
Crap. It hurts. Monday the plumber is coming by to fix what the tile guy screwed up. He said it would take him roughly four hours but I don't know if that is a.m. hours or p.m. hours. Guess I'll have to wait until Tuesday. I'll run out of Ibuprofen before then.

Sometimes things don't work out as planned. I had a whole different idea of what the bathroom would look like when it was redone. The "professional" tile guy screwed up my plans the moment he cut out our copper pipes. I had wanted separate handles for hot and cold...porcelain crosses. I think they look old fashioned and that certainly fits the rest of the house. He forced us into getting a single handle fixture. And then he tiled the hardware in so that we can't switch it out unless we tear out some tile first. He said that he's been laying tile for 20 some years and could do it in his sleep. In fact, it looks like he did. There's a section at the edge of the tub where he cut the backer board wrong so there was nothing to adhere a piece of tile to so he just filled the inch wide gap with grout. If I tap it with my knuckle it'll fall behind the tub. He said it was because there were pipes in the walls and he couldn't work around them. Fancy that. Plumbing in the walls of a bathroom. Go figure. We argued that there had been something there before he tore it out. He refused to redo it. He said there was no danger of water seeping through because the grout would stop it. Hmmm. So why put up concrete backerboard instead of plain sheetrock? Why spend a day adding waterproofing to the backerboard before tiling? I mean, if the grout will stop the water then why did he bother with all those other steps?

The only bright moment of the whole botched tile affair was when the asshole was leaving and a hornet nailed him in the ear. Hubris/Nemesis. Some people just don't get karma.

Got home a little while ago from the best book club meeting ever. We read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Not a particularly riveting read. I kept looking for the deep meaning that was sure to be hidden in the tale but didn't find it. It was kind of like reading a passage from The Secret. The universe conspires to make your dreams come true sort of thing. The ending also had a Dorothy Gale finds herself back in Kansas aspect to it which didn't do a thing for me. I don't want to ruin it for you. Anyway, the discussion of the book took very little time. None the less, we were able to keep up a steady banter for over two hours. The conversation swept from one topic to the next with dizzying speed. Tasers, Ted Bundy, and why Velma never had a boyfriend on Scooby-do were all covered. At one point I thought we were going to witness a cage match between two ladies who were heavily debating the lawfulness of gunning someone down in your own home. We didn't quite manage to get hermaphroditism into the conversation but it wasn't from lack of trying. Or opportunity. It was no holds barred. It makes me a little sad that we only meet once a month. But I guess it's safer that way. Like one lady said tonight, "I get the feeling we're going to end up getting arrested."

There were two cold cups of tea in the microwave this morning. And the remnants of an untoasted chocolate fudge poptart wannabe on a plate on the counter. Whoever stole into my house during the wee hours of the night at least had the common courtesy to throw the wrapper in the trash. But still, it pissed me off. I have to admit my calorie conscious eye had settled on the box of toaster pastries more than a few times since I started on Neris and India's Idiot-Proof Diet. I dutifully dined on cheese and eggs and eggs and cheese. All the while my heart ached for confections of every kind. I did well. I stuck to my guns and went without bread and spirits. No oatmeal for breakfast. No raisins or fruit. I have to say I'm completely egged out. Day after day pining for pastry. I weighed myself and the scale mocked me. Nothing changed except my attitude. Yes, I did get a wee bit bitchy there for awhile. Those closest to me could see the difference. It wasn't fair. I sacrificed so much! No rice, no carrots! Just chicken, peanut butter, and cheese. There's not a whole lot there. The kitchen creativity really took a header.
I put the kettle on for tea (without sugar....yeah, right) and noticed my little red and yellow drug basket that usually resides on the top of the fridge. Not hardcore drugs. Just my depression meds and Ambien. Hmmm. I searched my poor sleep deprived brain. I tried logic. If it had been anyone else in this house the wrapper would still be on the counter and there would be no tea in the microwave. But, there would have been absolutely no poptart shrapnel laying on the counter either. Whoever did it moved through both pastries...they come in a pack of two. In my mind I see the cookie monster cramming them in his mouth, bits flying hither and yon. He's wearing a robe that looks suspiciously like mine. Maybe I should lay off of the Ambien for awhile.
Ok, who am I kidding? It's 1:39 a.m. and I'm wide awake. I wonder if I can hide the cookies from myself...

It's a blank slate unfortunately. Or fortunately depending on your perspective. I consider it a good thing. A chance to start over. To do something new. The forum is in the rawest state possible at the moment because it is midnight and I'm knackered. But for those night owls who may run across this blog post, you can access it at www.squarepegmama.com/smf. I'll throw some bells and whistles at it later and hope that some stick but for now...it is what it is.
I'm also trying to move the Square Peg Mama blog over to our new host. I've imported the SQL db for it but apparently I screwed it up somewhere along the way. I'll keep trying as I liked that blog. It had all my garden stuff on it. Yeah, big yawn, I know. But I love my garden. It's very calming and life affirming.
Gotta get this off before the ambien kicks in... don't want to scare off any possible members. ;o) Please visit the new board, sign up, and post a word or two. But please don't try to sell Viagra or cheap cigarettes there. And if you can't access the site PLEASE post a comment here and let me know why! 'night!