Cleaning, Dreaming, Better Typing
After my miserable “cooking trauma” post last night, I went downstairs and promptly had a cleanliness fit. Those of you who know me know that while I am an organized person, I am not clean, really. My cleanliness resolves around a lot of POS usage (Piles of Shit), and frequent repiling. But last night, I exosized the evil demons of my failed cakework by cleaning the kitchen hard. Well, relatively hard. I ceremoniously walked the sticky lump that was my cake out to the compost, washed all the dishes, scrubbed the countertops and the enormous cutting board, and relocated our kitchen’s lovely landmark, Mt. Recycling, to the back of the Honda for drop off today (which I did, thank you).

Then I read a facinating article about nanotechnology (in Talk, of all places) and went to bed. While sleeping, I had two dreams:
Dream 1: Dre and I have decided to get an apartment in downtown Olympia. We pick out a nice one bedroom with hardwood floors, sign the lease, and make our deposit. As we’re walking away I gasp “But I don’t want to move–I like our house! I like that our backyard is a forest, I like sleeping in a loft, I like the skylights and the privacy and our nice landlord who lives in a treehouse!” I realize that I can’t remember why we’re moving in the first place. I get agitated and sad.

Dream 2: It’s a Thursday, and I am Seattle working for Amazon. I’m planning on staying overnight and work on Friday, as well. As I’m driving down Pike Street that evening, I get a call on my cell phone. It’s some rave promoter asking me if I’m available to be the opening DJ at 8:30 Friday night. They’re throwing some huge warehouse massive and they need me, DJ Spitwad, to rock the house. I agree to the gig, thinking to myself “I don’t know how to spin records, but this is a dream, so I’m assuming I’ll know how to do it once I get there. No problem.” Later, I remember that I don’t have my records: they’re in Olympia, since this was an unplanned gig. I try to call the promoter back at the numbers he’s left me, but they’re all info lines and I know he won’t get the message. I get agitated.

I woke up this morning surprisingly unagitated (although definitely PMSing and very ready to be switch to just plain MS), made some yummy hashbrowns (More cooking! What’s gotten into me?), got pissed at my computer’s keyboard that’s been on the fritz and went and bought a new one. I also got the 128MB of RAM I’ve been wanting, but it doesn’t seem to work with my computer. *sigh*