The Post-Plague Diaries
I went out to get some groceries tonight since Matt's leaving for Asia early on Saturday and the kids don't have piano/guitar on Monday afternoon, which is when I usually get groceries for the week. I also went to the public library. This means I did my Monday errands on Thursday. I can't figure out if this puts me ahead or behind.
Eve came and hung out with me and the librarian while I was shelving books in the school library. She found a Roald Dahl book that she hadn't read yet and the librarian checked it out for her even though she already has her two books checked out for the week. She then danced around the library singing "I'm so happy, I have so many books", confirming that she is indeed my child. On the way home someone on the radio referred to someone (from Liberia) as Liberian and she sighed dramatically and said "I can't STAND when they don't speak properly - is it so hard to say LIBRARIAN?" And you must never, ever tell her that I told you about that, but it fits with my general conviction about blogging about my kids, which is that I MIGHT write something here that they would be embarrassed about if they read it tomorrow, but I will never post anything that they would be embarrassed about if they read it in ten years.
I got stuck in the public library parking lot. I waited until everyone went around me and then backed up very slowly until I could go forward again. Our neighbour's lawn is stacked with snow higher than I thought snow could be stacked. The friend who drove us home from school had to drop us off at the end of our street because anything that's not a four wheel drive can't make it through the sidestreet mess. Go home winter, you're drunk.
Have you ever heard of Capgras Syndrome? It's a neurological condition that makes you think your family and/or friends have been replaced by impostor look-alikes. I read a book about it that was pretty bad, and there was a Scrubs episode about it that was pretty good. Lately I've been wondering if there's a similar syndrome that applies to toothbrushes instead of people. And that's all I want to say about that.
While I was driving home from the grocery store I was listening to a program on CBC about families who have to discuss taking a driver's license away from an elderly relative who can no longer drive. Some people tried to argue that most people know when they're not driving well any more, but most agreed that when people are in the early stages of Alzheimer's or dementia, they're under the impression that they're still driving well when it's obvious to everyone else that they're not. Whereas I am almost constantly terrified while I'm driving that I'm going to do something catastrophic, and when I have to park between two vehicles (rather than beside at least one empty spot) I'm nearly paralyzed with fear. Therefore, I have made a mental note that if I ever start feeling like I'm rocking the driving thing, I should definitely start to worry.
That should work, right?
Eve came and hung out with me and the librarian while I was shelving books in the school library. She found a Roald Dahl book that she hadn't read yet and the librarian checked it out for her even though she already has her two books checked out for the week. She then danced around the library singing "I'm so happy, I have so many books", confirming that she is indeed my child. On the way home someone on the radio referred to someone (from Liberia) as Liberian and she sighed dramatically and said "I can't STAND when they don't speak properly - is it so hard to say LIBRARIAN?" And you must never, ever tell her that I told you about that, but it fits with my general conviction about blogging about my kids, which is that I MIGHT write something here that they would be embarrassed about if they read it tomorrow, but I will never post anything that they would be embarrassed about if they read it in ten years.
I got stuck in the public library parking lot. I waited until everyone went around me and then backed up very slowly until I could go forward again. Our neighbour's lawn is stacked with snow higher than I thought snow could be stacked. The friend who drove us home from school had to drop us off at the end of our street because anything that's not a four wheel drive can't make it through the sidestreet mess. Go home winter, you're drunk.
Have you ever heard of Capgras Syndrome? It's a neurological condition that makes you think your family and/or friends have been replaced by impostor look-alikes. I read a book about it that was pretty bad, and there was a Scrubs episode about it that was pretty good. Lately I've been wondering if there's a similar syndrome that applies to toothbrushes instead of people. And that's all I want to say about that.
While I was driving home from the grocery store I was listening to a program on CBC about families who have to discuss taking a driver's license away from an elderly relative who can no longer drive. Some people tried to argue that most people know when they're not driving well any more, but most agreed that when people are in the early stages of Alzheimer's or dementia, they're under the impression that they're still driving well when it's obvious to everyone else that they're not. Whereas I am almost constantly terrified while I'm driving that I'm going to do something catastrophic, and when I have to park between two vehicles (rather than beside at least one empty spot) I'm nearly paralyzed with fear. Therefore, I have made a mental note that if I ever start feeling like I'm rocking the driving thing, I should definitely start to worry.
That should work, right?
Comments
This weather the past few days has me down. I can't even see to back out of the driveway because the snowbanks on along either side are higher than the van. DONE WITH WINTER NOW, thank you.
(Not that I'd be looking carefully anyway, because see above re: terrible driver.)
Good blogging rule, but I want 15 years because in 10 years June will be 16, pushing 17. I think 21/22 is a better embarrassment gauge. Once I didn't blog about something I thought was pretty funny and harmless because she said, "Please don't tell everyone about this" so putting it on the Internet seemed wrong.
I *hate* driving with my husband in the car. He is an excellent driver, and also likes to offer advice, and the combination makes me so nervous that my driving is probably 20% worse when he's in the passenger seat.
I love driving when I'm alone in the car, though. Hardly ever happens anymore what with the kids and all, but I treasure it when it does.
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Say, there sure is something shifty about that toothbrush...
I have never heard of Capgras Syndrome. Sounds pretty freaky. There's a woman in my area that has a syndrome where she can't recognize faces at all - including the ones of people she knows well. I can't really imagine that.
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(Don't worry, I'll return it when I bring back your toothbrushes.)