<I’m writing to you from a covert location -- somewhere in my office>

If anyone finds out, namely my husband, that I am typing right now I will probably be strapped to a chair and forced to watch horrible reruns of Hee-Haw. Why? Yes, I'm sure you're wondering that. I'll get there soon.

I have been having a very random thought day. It started while I was still sleeping. I had a dream that there was a butterfly caught in my shirt. It kept trying to get away and instead kept poking me. I was trying not to freak out that there was a bug stuck on me, while at the same time trying not to kill the butterfly.

Somewhere as this was going on the worlds of dreamland mixed with reality and I woke up nearly freaking as I tried to reason with myself that it had only been a dream. My fear at the time was that the "feeling" I had in my dream was actually a very large spider crawling up my back. I stopped just short of jumping up and hopping around while trying contortionism as an acrobatic stunt.

I read (actually on the T.A.P.S. website while trying to ascertain if there was an afterworld poker party going on in my bedroom) that your body paralyzes itself during sleep so that it won't enact the motions of dreams. Seems reasonable to me, but if a bug is going to be crawling all over me, I really think that I should have the choice of bonking it even in sleep. Would explain why I'm always covered in bug bites, though. I've never been able to figure out why I haven't been slapping the heck out of them (and myself) while they fed on me during the night. Now, I know.

Once awake, I spent some time thinking about Supernanny Jo. LJS and I were contemplating last night about whether we should give her a call. I speculated that she'd probably turn and run upon discovering that our daughter's favorite past-time seems to be getting naked, getting wet, and then making "booty" prints on the driveway. Yeah... that's a new one. Started this weekend, actually.

She's been talking almost non-stop about how much she wants me to put a princess bed in her room. I keep telling her that if I do she's actually going to have to sleep in there, but I don't think it'll hold. We're back to the whole man in her room, monsters, bad dream argument. Since I have a horrible tendency toward night terrors, I am probably way too lenient. And me, being the push-over that I am, will still get her the princess bed. Or rather, a bed that has one of those net canopy things draping from the ceiling-- all with glow in the dark stars.

Somewhere before noon I got completely fed up with people complaining. I will never understand the whole "It's okay for me, but not the person next door" mentality. It's okay if I have freedom of speech, but heaven forbid anyone else does-- and isn't there anything you can do about all the pink, purple, and turquoise houses in town? Cause you know, I just think the color is putrid. Nevermind that my house is canary yellow and glows in the night sky from 1000 miles away. Airplanes are using it as a beacon. *sigh* If the writer's of Reno 911 ever run out of material they have only to come to our town.

And finally, I reach the part of the story about why I think my husband is going to tie me up and not let me move...

Right after this complaint, I needed to page one of the guys I work with to have him go and do something (I forget what). I was feeling a little stressed and my blood sugar was dropping, so overall I was not feeling great. I reached out to grab the mouse of my computer and all the sudden my fingers started curling on their own. I couldn't straighten them out.

I freaked!

Honest to God, I thought I was having a stroke. LOL... I'm laughing now, but at the time it scared the crap out of my. My hand is curling, my eye started twitching, and because I was freaking out I started to get whoozy!

I called my boss over and explained what was happening, showing him my hand which had started to look like the witch's in the story of Hansel and Gretel. But mostly, I called him over because if I dropped dead I wanted someone there with the ability to dial 911. Especially since my hand had started to go numb.

Finally, it relaxed and turned into a dull ache. I put ice on it at lunch and it got better. Enough so that now I write to you.

But as I said, it is presently from an isolated location from somewhere inside my office.

Oh, and to end my day... Short Person pee'd on the sidewalk in front of our neighbor this time. LOL... Booty prints would have been better, I think.