This post may potentially be a bit eepy for some readers. If this could be you, e.g. if Carrie was a bit too much with all the blood, you may want to move along. (I will try to avoid being too graphic.)

If Journalscape had a cut, I'd use it, but it doesn't, so scroll down...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.


It's been a weird few days here.

They're really hard to explain, but on Saturday night and on Sunday, I had some experiences that felt like I was becoming better than I was. Sort of climbing up some ladder rungs I'd fallen down, and maybe climbed up a few more, in terms of personal illumination. And no, there were no drugs involved, not even NyQuil, and no, there were no visions. Again, hard to explain, just one of those personal experiences hopefully we all have, so maybe you may have an inkling of what I'm trying to say here. A piece of it, however, did involve telling some people in some very general terms about my childhood -- things I don't really discuss with anyone. But, there was a young man who had some questions and it felt to me that by sharing these things I could help him. At the same time, I feel as if I've exposed my underbelly, and the information will be used against me because that has usually been the case. Trust issues, yadda, yadda.

Yesterday was a fairly normal day -- played with kids, studied, Avadore and I made gingerbread. He and LD have just about demolished the whole pan. And then we left the house about 4:30. I had some dry cleaning to pick up, and a few groceries to buy, and a couple other errands. Of course, it was dark outside by 5.

We went to the store an dthen came home.

And then I was wired. I felt really weird, uncomfortable, and I didn't know why. So I drank some warm milk, and tried to mellow out, and sleep.

And I did sleep. And I dream some really weird stuff. I was in this huge house that was more like a maze than a house, and each door had a label on it for what it was. I can't remember all the logic, but there was something about being at a James Bond type training school for writers. I caught a glimpse of some of my school books my brother had borrowed and he'd really beat them up. (They were being held together with duck tape. I was moderately annoyed.) There were two women who were menstruating and the blood was spreading across the backs of their jeans. One was this gorgeous African American woman and one was this woman with long brown hair and pale eyes and they kept going back to this giant couch that took up a huge portion of this front living room type space. Later I was putting on a diaper, size 3. (Any parent can tell you -- kids are in size 3's forever, which is LD's current size.) And throughout the whole thing, LD's ears were malformed, particularly the left side. And on the left side of his head, above his ear, was a growth. I knew he'd need plastic surgery, otherwise he'd possibly be teased and his appearance could really affect his life. (And none of this is true -- he's perfect physically in every way. He's adorable. I have had so many people who will watch him and keep saying how cute he is. Heck, Rice and I sit there and say, "He's so cute. How can he be so cute?") And there was this huge industrial-type kitchen with this giant sterling silver fridge and giant stove... And then Mr. Anthropology was there in a grey shirt and jeans, and there was a little poodle with a lightsaber.

But it was a weird troubling dream. I woke up, and did the usual motherly things. I got Avadore ready for school, we worked on his speech, we read, we sang, yadda, yadda. He caught the bus. LD slept in, so I did other Maggily stuff. When it was time for his breakfast, I made him a hole-in-one, also known as a hen-in-a-basket, or a chicken- in-a-basket, or an egg-in-a-basket, etc. The first thing I notice -- somehow between my house and the store one egg had broken. In the process of trying to remove it from the carton, I broke two more. I decided to make myself an egg, but when I cracked the egg there was blood inside.

Now, I know this happens. It has happened to me once or twice, and usually it always bothers me a little bit (I do eat eggs fairly frequently because it's easy for me to forget they ever had a face), but today it really bothered me. And it wasn't just a blob of blood -- the whole white of the egg was tinged pink.

And for the duration of the day I've been incredibly clumbsy -- dropping stuff, knocking stuff over, and so on.

So this is the deal -- all of this feels connected to me somehow, but I really can't say how, or if I'm just having one of those weird brain malfunctions where everything seems connected.

If nothing else, what's with all the blood?

Here's to a more normal day, but I really do feel weird, and have for a few days. Like something is going on, but I'm not sure what.

I have felt like this before, and usually good things don't come of it...