I had a dream last night that S. was giving Princess Di (she was alive) a sponge bath, and he didn't understand why I was upset. He explained that her usual attendant was tired. That's me, jealous of a dead princess.
I am still coughing up a lung like a sixty year old smoker. I was in Target yesterday and there was this lady in her sixties that reminded me of my paternal grandmother. I'm embarassed to admit this, but my reaction was to shudder. Only because i don't want to become my grandmother. she looked a lot older than she was when she was fourty/fifty, she was constantly sick and depressed.[ she was however very talented and made these amazing play dough sculptures and wrote poetry. i am being serious about this]. I know she had a rough life, and it showed but damn it...I want to age more gracefully and less painfully. She had reasons, good ones to be like she was. However, I really don't. Her life sounds like it was very hellish. [my grandparents on both sides were divorced how odd is that. random side note.] Anyway, this woman was coughcoughcoughing through the bra aisle and i felt like a little bird answering her coughs back. bleh. not really. i felt disturbed. The flames of fiery fictional hell are licking my heels but i did not look at this woman and feel all sentimental about my grandmother. i ran into the sock aisle to escape the sounds of the cough. [where i found some really neat stripe-y stockings] i am being silly on purpose, i am not this shallow. tonight, i will go home and clean like there is no tomorrow. Ari is coming home after being gone for a week.