I'm Too Young For This

What you call a senior moment.

I have to register Cody for school Thursday. I don't know why, but this school district makes you re-register every year. Anyway, I went in to work Monday and put in for my vacation day, so I could take him up there. After I got home, I realized that I had put in for the wrong day! I put in for NEXT Thursday. I went back up to the office the next day to change it, but this Thursday is already full. I'll have to go in and leave early.

Cody has been in Band Camp all week, learning their music and marching for the coming school year. He says it's hard. He plays the tuba, and they don't play Sousaphones. They play actual tubas, which means they have to hold that big, heavy horn up the whole time they are performing. I went to pick him up today and got to the band hall just as the kids were coming off the field. The drumline was leading them, and when they got off the field they stood there and played until all the other band members gotten into the band hall. I turned off the radio and rolled down my window and just listened to them.

I'm biased, but I think it says something when one would rather listen to a high school band than a multi-platinum country music artist. But like I said, I'm biased.

On the knitting front, Nutkin is coming along right nicely. I'm determined to get this pair finished this month. I should make it. I only have three more pattern repeats before I start the toe decreases.

I know you are all probably getting bored reading my strange dreams, but I'm trying to post the ones I remember. I had two last night. If you don't want to read them, stop here.

Still reading? Ok, here we go...

In the first dream, I was playing a game with some people I didn't know. We were something similar to the MesoAmerican ball game played by the ancient peoples of Mexico and central America. We were using a baseball and a basketball goal to play. The basketball goal was only about waist high, and we were allowed to use our hands. Other than that, it was pretty much no holds barred. I saw the ball rolling on the field, and I dashed over and picked it up. I was running for the goal when one of the opposing players grabbed me by the hand. I put one of my self-defense moves on him. Not a karate move, but something that had been taught to me by a sergeant in the Marine Corps when I was in the Navy. I broke loose and ran and put the ball through the goal to score the winning point. The young man who had grabbed me was so impressed that he kept asking me for my phone number. I thanked him, but told him that he was too young for me. I trotted into the club house where Buck was waiting for me so we could eat dinner. I was just about to sit down when I remembered that I'd left my shirt out on the playing field. I ran back out to get it, with Buck calling behind me that I didn't really need to do that. He didn't mind if I ate while topless. I covered myself up, and said, "Trust me, nobody wants to see this body naked!"

That dream faded, then I began dreaming totally differently. I dreamed next that I had gotten bit by a copperhead. I wasn't really worried. Copperhead bites are almost never fatal, even when medical attention is not sought (I still recommend seeing a doctor.) However, I'd read somewhere that if one is allergic to honey bees (which I am) the body can have a cross reaction to copperhead venom and go into an allergic reaction. So, my sister--who in my dream didn't look anything like my sister--and the youth pastor from my church, Andrew, took me up to the local emergency room. The admitting office took my information, then sent me back out to the waiting room. Sometime later, a guy from my karate class also came in to see how I was doing. Five hours later, I was still waiting, and by that time I was in a full fledged allergic reaction, struggling to breathe. My sister, Andrew, and the guy from karate, who had mysteriously gained an uncanny resemblance to Brett Favre, basically shoved their way back into the examination room and demanded that a doctor see me NOW!. While they were arguing, the doctor finally arrived and began leading people from the waiting area back into the examination room. He lined them all up and began counseling the woman who was first in line about the risks of getting a tummy tuck. Andrew interrupted the doctor and told him that I had been there first, and my situation was a bit more urgent than someone wanting her tummy tucked. The doctor replied that he had not seen me in the waiting room when he came in and so I had to go to the back of the line and wait my turn. That was when Brett physically grabbed the doctor and forced him to come over to the table I was laying on and look at me. Andrew, cute as a button, but not very big, jumped between Brett and the doctor trying to keep Brett from killing the doctor before he could treat me. Meanwhile, I lay on the examining table, barely conscious, with my left hand grotesquely swollen from the copperhead venom, my body in anaphylactic shock, barely conscious and struggling to breathe. And that dream faded out as well.

Dang. I wonder what Dr Phil would make of me.