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back to bed

i’m touchy today.

i’m highly sensitive and over stimulated.  i haven’t been getting enough sleep, there are too many kids next door screaming bloody murder, and dogs barking incessantly reminding me that i have only so much patience in my being.  i’m not perfect.  i’m not a saint.  some days i find these little things charming, sweet and adorable.

today is not one of those days.  today the high pitched squealing of small children is about to give me a migraine.  the barking dogs remind me of my time in mexico, when i thought i’d been kidnapped and might be sold as a child slave.  the beautiful summer day doesn’t remind me fondly of my grandmother, like i would expect, but of smog, fear, tension and the overwhelming nervousness i became used to when i lived in LA.

all in all:  it’s a great day to go back to bed, if i could.

barefoot kid with dog

my mom says i used to do this all the time

(by this i mean walk around barefoot with a laundry basket on my head)

i guess i talked to myself under the basket, because i liked the way my voice bounced off the walls.  probably felt like i was in a theatre, addressing my many minions, sending them off to do my evil bidding.  or maybe i just didn’t have anyone else to talk to.  or maybe i pretended i was in a canyon; i do love echoes.

so here i am, followed by either a family dog, a stray, or a fluffy footstool.