Potpourri

Yesterday, preparing to watch "Saw II"¹ on the Sci Fi channel (shout out to Kimberly!), I was popping some microwave popcorn, and the strangest thing happened. The bag opened while popping. The lazy susan rotated, and popcorn shot out around and around and around. "That is funny," I thought. But then, I opened the microwave, and I saw that a TON of unpopped kernals had shot out along with the popcorn, as well as oil. "Not so funny, but still," I thought. Then, taking the bag out of the microwave, I dropped it into the open dishwasher full of clean dishes. "That sucks!" I thought. Plus, I didn't want to miss the beginning of "Saw II." Too bad for me, it had started a half hour earlier. I watched it anyway, of course, but I never got emotionally involved with the characters (except Donnie Wahlberg, of course. I've been involved with him for YEARS!) You know that movies aren't so scary if you aren't emotionally involved with the characters. So, not scary. Gruesome, though. Demented. I really liked it. I'm hoping that they keep playing them.

I'm in a rage state that should dissipate when I increase my meds. I'm moving that date up to tomorrow. I need relief. So does my family. I can't talk to Charlotte without her crying. If you see me at the Primary Activity Day tomorrow, you might want to step wide. I'll try to be nice, but the kids get first dibs on that, and I might not have enough left for you. You may think I'm kidding, but you won't once you get your feelings hurt tomorrow. And then, when I'm better and happy, you won't be, and that would be sincerely unfortunate. So here's your fair warning.

I DID go to Pilates today, and I almost died. I really, really spent the entire class straining, working as hard as I could, and for a large portion of the time nothing but my hands and head left the mat. Claire had a huge goose egg on her head when we were leaving, and I was like, ok, that sucks. But, with the size of my kids' heads, that happens a lot. But the employees started freaking out. Ice pack, interview Claire, go back and raise a ruckus in child care. So I start freaking out. She's been neglected, she's been abused, she's been bullied. They are asking her to follow their fingers with her eyes, walking her in a straight line like a sobriety test. I start thinking she has a concussion, they are going to think I'm negligent b/c I wasn't concerned. She wasn't telling, so I left. I finally pried it out that she didn't get that bump in child care - she got it fooling around under the counter at member services. I told them and left red-faced.

¹It's edited. Don't judge me.