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Tuesday, 30 October 2012


I don't know when this dream is from, but when the chemistry instructor lit a lighter today during class it suddenly came to me: I had a dream where I desperately needed a smoke. I left whichever place I was in, it was fairly cold, I went down a flight of stairs, it was getting dark, and I found a street vendor with a few people standing around him. I asked for a cigarette and fumbled around, dropping a few besides the one I was taking for myself, and then rummaged  my wallet/purse for money to pay for the dropped (and now surely ruined) cigarettes. It was such a strange urge, you know, because I don't smoke. I've never smoked. I once held a cigarette for D, but I didn't breathe in. It's not that I wasn't aware of the fact that I don't smoke in my dream. I just needed to smoke and I figured it was a time as good as any to start. 

MrInteresting didn't talk to me at all today. I'll call that a win, even if it felt as if he was a little upset. Well, I'm sorry: you can't leave a smart woman alone to her own devices with an easily falsifiable hypothesis and means to falsify it. 

On other news, I've been awfully distracted today. I stupidly failed today's bonus quiz for statistics and a dead easy question during chemistry class. All throughout chemistry class I couldn't stop thinking of LesMisGuy. I went over the lines from Cyrano in my head. I even wrote them down on a piece of paper I'd used to draw Penrose triangles in during the statistics class. I don't know what's the matter with me. Why would I go about deliberately making myself miserable with thoughts of LesMisGuy? I wondered where he might be and thought he might be in France, where at least one lovely French girl must be fancying him. That's where my thoughts go: to the women he must now be with. I wondered whether he thinks of me and stopped myself short reminding myself of how stupid it is to give the idea any thought. What does it matter? Why would I get myself stuck in fantasies where I run into him and all I manage to say is J'existe pas! Je ne suis pas ici! Personne ne saura si je suis sortie! as I try to sneak away from him approaching me? Why do I imagine him wanting to talk to me? Wanting to... kiss... me? And even in my fantasy it's all I can do to run away. What a horribly wretched thought that is.

[8:31pm edit]
Aunt MT told me aunt A has found something else to be upset with me about: plantain chips. I'll explain: my parents sent a lot of plantain chips for me to divide between my relatives. I told them beforehand not to send too many for me specifically because aunt A shouldn't eat fried anything, and in particular she shouldn't load up on fried carbohydrates. Fast forward to when aunt MT got here, I opened the plantain chips and offered aunt A and uncle A some. They didn't seem to like them much. I gather this from the fact that a mostly full bag was left in the fridge for over a week (if not two weeks). I can only guess by then it was tossed out or given to the dog because they must have been quite yucky by then. 

After dividing them and setting apart some to be given later, I left the rest with the lemon flavoured potato chips in my room. I haven't been eating more than one, maybe two a week. There are still 4-5 packages left. Aunt MT told me aunt A thinks I'm hoarding them and keeping them to myself so I don't have to share. It will sound childish when I say I shared! And they didn't like the plantain chips! It should have made no difference where I kept them! 

I stand by an argument I've made before: aunt A likes to be upset and all she has to do is find something to be upset about. Given there's hardly anyone else around, it figures that will more often than not end up being me. If I help around the house it goes unnoticed, if I think of her low blood sugar and ask how she's doing it's more likely to backfire, if I worry she's eating unhealthy it's sure to backfire, if I'm non-confrontational she thinks I'm being condescending and she says I must think she's stupid when she constantly tells me she knows better about everything because: reasons. 

*exasperated sigh*

There's just no right way to go about this, is there? I left what was left of the chips in the pantry. She can do with them what she pleases. 

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