Woke up early today. Maybe early for me, at least. 6:55 and I was snapped out of a dream in which I was trying to get myself on transit to go somewhere, and was being carried by a throng of people in a way that my Aunt once described from when she was at a Bruce Springsteen concert and got caught in a press, and was moved along without her feet on the floor. Same thing for me in this dream. Decided to give up trying to get onto transit, and just ride my bike, because I knew where my bike would take me, even if it took me a long time to get there.
I think my legs are trying to tell me something. Better than back in March, when my left calf tried to kill me. I’ve got an appointment with my Dr. on the 30th to talk about my Xray, and the blood thinners, and the whole bit. Here’s hoping this NaBloPoMo ends on a high note.
Also, Born on the Fourth of July is on, so hey, let’s watch something happy. Usually when Arwen’s out for the evening, I end up watching apocalypse movies. Zombies, killer virus, nukes, etc. Tonight though, some Saturday Night Live (rerun) some Almost Famous (amazing how much the camera loves Penny Lane in that film).
The kids and I went for a run to this odd store (two of them, actually) that has all the stuff that didn’t sell at Costco. It’s so deeply weird in there. It’s like the clearance table you sometimes see in places like Radio Shack, or Home Depot, only it has an entire warehouse-load of stuff. The kids always look longingly at the video games for $12, and I have to remind them that yes, $12 is a lot less than the usual $39 for games they’d want to play, but look at what these games ARE, and think about why they didn’t sell the first time around.
Also have to remind them about what As-Is may or may not mean. To look closely at what the stickers say. To be fair though, that R2D2 for $65 looks pretty good when they sell for $199 on Hammacher Schlemmer, despite the “does not respond to voice commands” tag on it. I figure it’d last a week here before the kids accidentally sent it down the stairs.
