lasts for thousands of closures

I just inadvertently smeared vaseline into the corner of my eye. Because my eyes don't give me enough crap already. Anyway, don't ask. Just know that it was never my intent to smear vaseline in my eye. It's sort of like if someone told you not to lick your finger and even though you pretty much never lick your finger, I mean you've gone years without licking your finger even, but as soon as they say 'don't lick your finger,' you decide that licking your finger is your new mission in life. Like you might go berserk if you don't. I guess it's like that for some people but I don't know.

My daughter is taking piano lessons. Okay, she's been to one lesson so far but she has been practicing the little songs she was assigned and is doing great with it. She lost another bottom tooth the other day at school. She brought it home in a cute little tooth shaped tooth box and she repeated over and over that she hoped the tooth fairy wouldn't take the tooth shaped tooth box. But the tooth fairy being such a forgetful dummy took the tooth box and then later when no one was looking put it back under the pillow empty like 'Oh, we must not have seen it the first time!' Oh, tooth fairy, that's a good one.

My glasses are in sorry shape, folks. All stretched out and wonky. If I lean over slightly they slide right off my face. Or try to. I'm really tired of it and I keep thinking I should make an appointment to get my eyes examined anyway. But I've got so much other stuff to do, I just keep skipping it. Smart!

On a less sour note, I really like this black turtleneck sweater I'm wearing. It's making me feel a lot sharper than I really am. Whee. The other day, me and the internet decided I was dehydrated, perhaps chronically so. So I've been drinking a lot of slightly flavored water until I feel sufficiently hydrated. Or until the internet tells me to stop. I did truly try to stop drinking cherry coke zero. But I didn't wean myself, I sort of just went wild and cut them down to one. And what a mistake that was. Because it felt like, and maybe I was just delirious, but I actually imagined my head was giving birth to more heads. It was intense.

The other night, because the Dream Department in my Brain is understaffed, underfunded, unimaginative, bitter, lazy and too busy texting, I had yet another dumb projector dream. Seriously though I wish you could see some of the wacky projection equipment my brain invents. The best part of my projector dreams is not the actual projector head but the stupid rollers that should be taking my film to a platter or a reel. I love me some rollers. Rollers all over the place so that film has to make all kinds of crazy paths to whatever weird thing I've decided to place my dream film on. A platter. A suitcase. Just let it roll on out the door. Who knows and best of all, no one seems to care where my film is going.

Projector dreams are like my default dreams. Well, sometimes I dream I am not wearing pants.