![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It's just not the best of days, I think.
Mar. 6th, 2003 04:20 pmI had one of those odd dreams this morning, the kind that act remarkably like they make sense but in retrospect are about as coherent as granola in a Cuisinart. There were flocks (herds? packs? prides? schools?) of talking sea lions swimming about and gang-murdering sharks. Big ugly sharks with lots of pointy teeth and human-looking eyes. They talked. And ate baby sea lions, or tried to, which is why they were being gang-murdered by angry packs of roving sea lions. They weren't very nice, so I didn't feel particularly sorry for them that they were being beaten to death by sea lions. The sea lions were also doing acrobatics, when they weren't out beating up sharks. And I think there was a very small sperm whale involved somewhere--but the sea lions didn't beat it up, I think because sperm whales don't eat baby sea lions. It talked, too. It had an English accent, kind of like Ringo Starr. The primary setting was somewhere in the ocean, part of which was apparently the abandoned section of the floor that used to be Tech Support before we moved, but underwater. So you have talking sharks swimming about in the cubes and such.The whole thing was just, well, odd, and I could not for the life of me figure out what day residue could possibly have inspired my subconscious to come up with something like that. The alarm woke me up mid-dream, so I was extremely groggy up until about noon. Even after two cups of cocoa. And I still have sea lions on the brain. Ork! Ork! Ork!
I failed to find any evidence of my sister's new address, despite having recieved several different missives from her at said new address. So I have yet to send out the presents and the giant stack of cake picture photocopies.
I forgot to bring all the things to photocopy for the refi with me to work. They were IN MY HAND and I set them down. And so they sit on the couch waiting for me to come home. I have to go through and correct my name on the forms anyway--the broker put me in as Shappe, even though that isn't how any of the paperwork for the windows was filled out.
When I took my earmuffs off, they yanked out a small clump of hair, from right at my temple. Ouch.
Both the cats REALLY need their claws clipped. Koshka's front paws are 11 razor-sharp Talons Of Doom hidden in fur. Iniki's are 10. I know this because I tried to rescue my pencil before she gnawed the eraser off, and she resisted. Ouch again.
I did manage to get a foot or two of the gore sewn on correctly, to appease the project fairies. And I had healthy food for dinner. Well, mostly healthy food. The tortilla chips and queso was a snack. Really. I promise.
I failed to find any evidence of my sister's new address, despite having recieved several different missives from her at said new address. So I have yet to send out the presents and the giant stack of cake picture photocopies.
I forgot to bring all the things to photocopy for the refi with me to work. They were IN MY HAND and I set them down. And so they sit on the couch waiting for me to come home. I have to go through and correct my name on the forms anyway--the broker put me in as Shappe, even though that isn't how any of the paperwork for the windows was filled out.
When I took my earmuffs off, they yanked out a small clump of hair, from right at my temple. Ouch.
Both the cats REALLY need their claws clipped. Koshka's front paws are 11 razor-sharp Talons Of Doom hidden in fur. Iniki's are 10. I know this because I tried to rescue my pencil before she gnawed the eraser off, and she resisted. Ouch again.
I did manage to get a foot or two of the gore sewn on correctly, to appease the project fairies. And I had healthy food for dinner. Well, mostly healthy food. The tortilla chips and queso was a snack. Really. I promise.
