From High Hog to Dream Grog
Sorry about the strange look of the blog right now. Apparently if I want to go beyond or maintain the “transferability” of the images I have on this blog I have to start paying, which is not going to happen until next month (or the next bartending shift; whichever comes first). But paying a little is probably worth it; I can’t believe this whole operation has been free anyway.
Thanks to the generosity of a friend of Dawn & Cat’s who lives in Breckenridge, a gaggle of us got to hang out in the mountains for a couple of days this weekend. I made my first official batch of cucumber mojitos (pretty darn tasty!), boiled myself blissful in a hot tub, walked along a beautiful creek, hiked up to a high alpine lake, past multiple waterfalls, and tried to train a hyperactive black labrador to drop the frisbee. I also managed to read the book Jen leant me, Professors as Writers, and subsequently launched myself now on a new writing plan/program for my academic work, which I started yesterday. So now, god help me, I’ll be trying to keep up with the blogging and the new mountains of scholarly activity–not to mention the yoga, and the meditation, and the bicycling, and the bartending, and the babysitting, and all that. This is when it’s good to not be living with a partner.
Time management is an interesting trick to master. I was so pleased with myself yesterday because I pulled off everything I wanted to accomplish right on time. I mean, I was ON. I got up at 6, did yoga, ate, got out the door on my bike right on time. My lecture was completed in just the amount of time I’d allotted to it, and the rest of class time was perfectly paced. I did my academic writing, enjoyed the evening ride home, and took care of garden chores in a relaxed way. Totally pleased with myself.
Today, however, has been another story entirely. I woke up pretty perky at six, and then chatted on the phone with Erin as she drove herself to work. (We talked, among other things, about whether ants had hearts, which was the first thing I thought of upon waking. Erin said they might not have hearts, but you could still hurt their feelings. 
) It was all good until then, but after we hung up, I made the big mistake of lounging back in bed. Next thing I knew I was trying to claw to the surface of a dream quagmire–and it was 9:00.
Cat C., if you’re reading this, I dreamt that you and Blake were living on the 22nd floor of a glass high rise, and I was taking an elevator up to your apartment, but it kept sticking at the 7th floor, and I was convinced it was going to plunge to the basement. When I finally got to the 22nd floor, I found myself in the wrong apartment, a huge penthouse that belonged to a very Yuppie couple, with views of the city so insane that I kept reeling with acrophobia. The woman was friendly enough to let me borrow her “spare” bright red flip phone to try and find you guys. When I finally wandered through the halls and found your apartment, Blake was standing naked at the marble breakfast counter with a paintbrush in his hand. Then I noticed the giant painting of Van Morrison with a snake winding around his body, looming on the living room wall.
I also dreamt, Mom, that you messaged me for an iChat and when I turned it on, you, too, were with snake. A big, fat, unnaturally green “boa constrictor” that you said you were “just babysitting for a friend.”
Sorry about all the Bessie (snake) references, Dubber. Who knows what that was all about. Is this about fertility or eeevil?
Okay, so I wrestled myself out of dream state, but not out of a massive grogginess that is still clinging to me at 11:20 a.m. I am now blogging when I have a zillion other things to do. And I realized when I opened my computer that I accidentally stood up a friend/colleague at a bar yesterday afternoon when I thought I was doing such a stellar job of time management. I’d completely convinced myself that our meeting was tomorrow, so I delayed the reminder I’d set to actually not forget the appointment. I’m an idiot. And now that I’ve f’d up half of my own day and part of a friend’s day yesterday, I’m fighting the temptation to call the entire day “derailed” and just go hide under a rock. But it’s too hot for hiding under rocks, and, besides, isn’t that where all the snakes are?
