Another Saturday night at work. CLEARLY, I'm swamped. The Ides of March have almost left us, making way for the April showers bringing May flowers. I'm over the winter. Bring on the warmer weather says I. Of course by end of June I'll be bitching it's too hot...but, for now... bring it on!
Still nothing on the house
hunting front. We're still in one gigantic holding pattern. We've got
this property we like, but until we get Alan's income tax return
back... we're at a stalemate. Which sucks. In the meanwhile I'm
burning up the lines on Pinterest. (If you get my pinterest spam --
I'm sorry, I make no apologies...but you have been warned!) And
buying redecorating mags like they're going out of style! I'm
addicted! Addicted I tell you!!! Maybe I was a decorator in a past
life. LOL Who knows.
I awoke this morning annoyed. Annoyed with myself because of a
dream I had. I dreampt I was speaking with my Father, not an uncommon
occurrence...I usually speak with him every couple of weeks or so
either via email or phone...and I usually dream of him every few
months. I don't recall what precipitated the argument or discussion
we were having, but I do know that I felt very intensely about
something (either for or against...I don't recall now) and my Dad
essentially said I was exaggerating and embellishing and essentially
fell short of saying I was lying about whatever it was we were
discussing. I LOST it. I started yelling at my Dad, now completely
angry...and YELLING at my Dad. Something I have only EVER done ONCE
in my 40plus years in this life. And we were on the phone. And I hung
up on him. The thing of it was, he was in the wrong and he did
recognize that fact when we spoke later that day. I actually called
him back to apologize for yelling and he actually told me I was in
the right. I wish I had recorded that conversation for posterity!
Anyway, I woke up this morning annoyed with myself. Annoyed for
yelling at my Dad. In a dream. Something that hadn't actually
occurred. I suppose it's because my Dad isn't getting any younger,
and I'm watching one of my dearest friends slowly lose her
Father...and I keep thinking...that could just as easily be my Dad.
It isn't...but it could be. (I'm not going to get into that
conversation as it is one for another blog entry all on it's own. Too
many emotions wrapped up there). I guess I'm annoyed with myself (or
was) because every moment is sacred and should be treated as such,
every moment is equally as fleeting. Savor them. I feel the need to
call and apologize for something that didn't happen. That need to
reach out and be reached back at.
Know what I mean?
One Last Glimpse,